Radiant White Star
by PureTempest
Summary: Seldom is an elf born with a special gift, powers that exceeds that of the rest of the Eldar, but it does happen. For Elrond it was the power of foresight. For Galadriel it was the power of mind. And for Faenel it was the power of snow and ice. Other feared her, and she was forced to flee. Full summary inside. OC/Legolas, and eventual 10th walker.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I will say this once: I do not own anything in this story. Everything is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, and I'm simply taking liberty in playing with his creations.

**Radiant White Star**

**Summary:** Seldom is an elf born with a special gift, powers that exceeds that of the rest of the Eldar, but it does happen. For Elrond it was the power of foresight. For Galadriel it was the power of mind. And for Faenel it was the power the power of snow and ice. However, unlike Elrond and Galadriel, the small elven village that Faenel lived in feared her and forced her, her mother, and her father to flee. Concealing her gift, fearing that if it was discovered they would be hunted again, Faenel and her family never lived more than a few years at a time in the different villages. That was how Faenel's childhood was until her family was ambushed by orcs, killing her mother and father. OC/Legolas, and eventual 10th walker.

**Prologue**

"_Death. It's around more than people realize. Because no one wants to talk about it or hear about it. It's too sad. Too painful. Too hard. The list of reasons is endless."_

_~ Jessica Sorensen, Nova and Quinton: No Regrets_

* * *

Faenel felt numb as she lay on the snow covered earth, simply looking up on the starlit night sky.

One would at first glance think that it was because of the freezing temperature around her, but the cold never really bothered her, like it didn't bother the rest of the Eldar. The Firstborn of Eru Ilúvatar was created not to be affected by the cold, to not fall ill, and to live until The End. That was just how it was; Elves didn't get cold. And she more than the rest of her race wasn't affected by the cold: she could be buried to the neck, and still not freeze. It had been like that for as long as she could remember. Faenel simply _couldn't_ get cold.

But why was it, then, that she felt numb, both physically and psychically?

The reason – or rather reasons – were lying on both sides of her. Two dead bodies, an ellon on her right and an elleth on her left, lay as still as she, in a slumber they would never wake from. They were beautiful, even in death, as the rest of the Eldar were. Both of them had hair as dark as a starless night sky, which now lay fanned over the ground with blood, dust, and branches entangled. The black hair only made the slowly freezing, pale bodies seem that much more white. They almost looked peaceful, as if they had simply laid down to rest after a long journey. But the two arrows that protruded from the elleth's chest, and the impaled sword in the ellon's stomach betrayed that. They were dead, never to smile again, never to laugh again. Never to tell their little girl that they loved her.

Faenel didn't know how long she had laid there, holding hands with her dead parents. She knew it had been a while, as she remember laying there while there was light as well. It didn't matter much to her; night or day, she would simply lay numb on the frozen earth, staring blankly up on the sky. She couldn't move – not that she had tried once she had laid down –, the memory of her parents getting killed running on repeat in her mind. Again and again Faenel saw her mother fall down from her horse, unintentionally dragging Faenel with her, and once she hit the ground simply lay there, with two longs shafts sticking out of her chest. Again and again Faenel saw her father hack down orcs as they charged, but finally failing as one thrust its sword through his stomach and severed his spine – he, too, lay still as he hit the ground. Again and again Faenel saw the orcs close in on her with disgusting smiles, as she looked at the unmoving bodies of her parents. And then… nothing.

When she came too it, she lay in a winter landscape instead of green hills of grass, frozen statues standing around the field. She had stood up, disoriented for a few seconds before she remembered what had happened. Checking on her parents only confirmed their deaths. That was the point where she had started feeling numb. She had dragged the corpse of her father over to lay beside her mother, and then she simply lay down between them, grabbed their chilling hands, and simply looked to the sky. She didn't know what else she should do.

Her parents had been the only consistent people in her life. They never stayed in a village for long enough for Faenel to make any friends, whether they be adult or child. The most they had stayed in a single village was three years, and they only stayed for so long because Faenel had broken her leg badly and needed time to heal. Normally they would leave a village after staying for two years at most, and then take into the wilderness. There they would spend a few months, living off the land, until they reached a new village where they would stay for two years. The circle kept repeating.

It didn't make it easier to make friends, that she was an elf, and all the villages they had stayed in was only inhabited by humans. Faenel had never seen another elf, other than herself, her mother, and her father. She remembered very vaguely living in an elven village on the edge of a forest, but that was many years ago. Twenty years, to be exact – she had been ten when her family had left from there. Even though Faenel couldn't remember the village itself, she could remember why they left; the other residents began to fear her because of her Gift. They began yelling at her, flinching every time she moved, and finally getting violent with her. Her mother told it was because she had accidently created a snow storm once, when she was eight, when she had been upset. No one had been hurt, but it had scared the others.

Even though it was the reason that they didn't stay anywhere for more than two years – an incredible short amount of time for an elf –, both her mother and father made sure to make her understand that her Gift was that; a gift. They said that the Valar saw how special she was, how strong she was, even before she was born, and decided to bless her. They told her to never be ashamed of it, and that it was beautiful. Still, she couldn't use it in sight of others, because humans scared that much faster than elves did. If the residents of a village they were staying in saw her use her magic, they could hurt her, or her parents out of fear of the unknown. That was also why she loved being in the wilderness over being in a village; because she was able to show her parents her gift. They would always praise her and admire her work.

It wasn't always that she liked her Gift, however. Sometimes she just wanted to be like other elf children, living in a village or city, playing and not having to hide anything. There was also a period when she was younger where she didn't like how it had made her hair white as snow – a sharp contrast from her parents dark locks. Her mother had made her like it by telling Faenel that she was actually jealous of her daughter's hair, and how she had always wished for lighter hair. She told that Faenel that it was from her hair that Faenel had gotten her name – meaning Radiant White Star. And that was what Faenel was to her parents: she was their Star, their everything.

That was her whole world. That _had been_ her whole world. Her world was no more, having been robbed from her as the arrows and the sword stole the life of her parents. She was alone.

* * *

**Elleth – Female Elf**

**Ellon – Male Elf**

**Author's Notes:** Hello potential reader! This is PureTempest, and this is my first official story. I have lurked on the site for quite a while and scribbled ideas and small stories down. I thought it about time to publish my own work.

This story will be a long one, and centers around an OC named Faenel. As should come as no surprise, the story takes place in the Lord of the Rings universe – however, it will start long before the War of the Ring _and_ the Hobbit; around TA 500. I can just as well reveal now that she will be taken in by Lord Elrond in Rivendell, and that is where she will grow up. There will be time skips, of course, but the first part of the story will simply center around Faenel growing up, and her troubles and so on. We will of course also see to Legolas, and see the two fall in love.

You might notice (very quickly for some) that Faenel's powers is extremely similar to Queen Elsa's in the movie Frozen. And I can say right away that both the powers and to an extent Faenel's appearance is inspired by Elsa. However, concerning the powers, I have just picked what I liked, discarded what I didn't, and added something I thought missing. I also want to say right away that Faenel isn't the Middle Earth version of Elsa: Faenel is her own person, that will handle the pressure of having powers very differently than Elsa.

The storyline (when we reach the War of the Ring) will be a mixture of the books and the movies. As for now I haven't decided whether or not to have Faenel join the quest for Erebor – we will see when we reach that point in the story.

It is only the prologue which should be this short; the rest of the chapters I plan to make at least 5k-6k words long. I admit that I honestly don't like the stories much, where the chapters only just reach 2k words – it's like, you get a little taste of what is to come, and then it's robbed from you. But I thought it was fitting for the prologue to be this length – after all, it is just a prologue.

With that said, I guess the only thing left is actually starting the story. I hope you will enjoy it, and don't hesitate to review or PM me if you want to praise, criticize, or point out mistakes (whether they be lore related or grammatical). I will try my best to answer each and every review, so if you want an answer you should make sure you are not blocking PM's.

Tempest Out


	2. The Lost Elfling

**Chapter One:** The Lost Elfling

"_If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends."_

_~ Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre_

* * *

Elladan glanced over at his twin as Elrohir let out a large yawn. It made the elder twin roll his eyes, as he very well knew that Elrohir wasn't anywhere near tired – he was simply bored out of his mind. It was ironic, really, as it had been Elrohir who had bugged Glorfindel to take them with him on patrol once again, even when the commander of Imladris' forces had told them that it would just be a generic patrol. Yes, they had to look out for any hostile forces, as a great many elves would be coming through in little over a year, but it would be the same as it always was. Glorfindel had even told both of the twins, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn't have them disturb the patrol like they had done last time. In the end, after much begging, Glorfindel had sighed heavily as he allowed them to join him.

It was the twins' third time out on patrol, Lord Elrond finally having relented and allowed them to start training under Lord Glorfindel after their two-hundredth birthday. Elladan would admit that it was a lot less exciting than he had thought it would be (the patrolling, not the training), as all they really did was traveling around the Valley's borders, checking for signs that orcs or goblins had tried to break through. So far, however, the most thrilling thing had been an encounter with a wild wolf, which had quickly been taken care of with an arrow to the heart curtsey of Glorfindel. Still, Elladan quite liked being on patrol, as he got to get out of Imladris. Now, don't get him wrong: he loved his home and how peaceful it was, but after two centuries living there with only one trip out of it to the Golden Woods, it got slightly dull. By far most of the other elves were content with that uneventful life, but both of the twins craved more.

"Hey, Dan!" Elrohir's voice called in an unnecessary whisper – the rest of the company all had elf ears and would very well be able to hear it –, making Elladan's eyes wander over to his brother's. "Do you have anything to eat?"

"I thought you saved the apple from breakfast?" Elladan asked with a raised eyebrow, knowing full well that it would be more likely for Arwen to break out in swears than for Elrohir to save his food for later. It really was a wonder that the younger twin wasn't fatter than he was.

"I did!" Elrohir stated defensively. Elladan threw him an amused glance that made the younger twin blush, "… I saved it for ten minutes after breakfast. But can you blame me? I need my food!"

By now Elrohir had given up whispering, most likely having realized how useless it was. Many of the other elves, including Glorfindel, smiled amusedly at the Elrohir's statement – his love for food was well known in Imladris. Elladan let out an equally disbelieving and amused sigh, as he dug out an apple from his satchel.

"Next time you'll have to wait for dinner, Ro," Elladan warned as he threw the fruit to his brother. Elrohir dug into it with vengeance the moment it was in his hands, nodding offhandedly at his older brother.

"Of course, Dan, I will," Elrohir managed to say between the bites.

Elladan knew that it was more likely for the same thing to happen again, than for Elrohir actually save food for later. And when that happened, Elladan would again give his twin an apple without much prodding. For while they may be twins, mere minutes apart, it was very clear that he was the older brother: in almost all ways that were significant, he was just as carefree as his brother – though slightly more calm than Elrohir –, but when it came to protecting and shielding and having that protective instinct, it was very clear that he was the older of the two. Both of them knew that, and it had only become clearer when Arwen had been born and Elrohir developed the same instinct concerning her. To Arwen he was her overprotective older brother, and to Elladan he was the carefree, and at times annoying, younger brother. 'The best of both worlds', he had told Elladan it felt like, when once the older twin had asked what he thought about it.

"Can you believe that little Arwen is turning a hundred only next year?" Elrohir asked his brother as he nibbled at the remains of the apple. Getting a faraway look, he continued, "It feels like it was only yesterday that we entered the Healing Wards and saw the little pink creature in Nana's arms." After moment with a loving smile on his face, it twisted into an amused smirk, "She was quite ugly, now that I think about it."

"Ro!" Elladan exclaimed admonishingly in laughter.

"You can't say it isn't true, Dan!" Elrohir laughed out loud. "She has grown into quite a beauty, but back then with all the pink wrinkly skin, she could've been mistaken for a giant naked rat."

"I wouldn't be so quickly to say that, Elrohir," Glorfindel's voice sounded from the front, amusement evident in his voice. "I would say that compared to you, Arwen looked quite beautiful."

"Oi! Who's side are you supposed to be on?" the younger twin exclaimed in mock offense.

Without missing a beat, Glorfindel answered with a straight face, "Arwen's side, of course."

The whole company laughed at the statement as Elrohir sulked. While Glorfindel might say that, it was clear to everyone that Elrohir held a special spot in the old ellon's heart. Both Elladan and Elrohir grew up hearing stories about ancient elves, including Glorfindel. Since hearing the story about Glorfindel's battle with a Balrog, he had been the uncontested hero in Elrohir's mind, and the younger twin looked up to Glorfindel more than he did anyone else. Elladan, of course, also admired the commander of Imladris, but nowhere near to the same extent as his younger brother did.

"I admit that I also have a hard time seeing how quickly she has grown up," Elladan said with a reminiscent smile. "She could, and to an extent still can, get away with anything. She just had to flash those big grey eyes of her to Ada, and he would be pudding in her hands. There were even that one time where she made a mess of Ada's study, and she blamed us for it and got away with it."

"That's right," Elrohir laughed. "I had forgotten about that! But if my memory serves me right, she felt so guilty about it that she gave us her dessert each night for the next month."

"Arwen didn't even realize that we weren't mad at her," the older twin grinned. "We were just so damn proud that she had pulled it off." The two twins laughed heartedly at the memory, eventually quieting down to loving smiles as they remembered their sister's childhood.

"There is one thing that I do not look forward to, after Arwen has turned a century," Elrohir said with a frown.

"What?"

"We have to keep all those young ellyn away from our nethig!" Elrohir exclaimed. "They will want to court the moment that she will be eligible! Well not on my watch, I say!"

"Right you are," Elladan smirked. "And if anyone doesn't get the message, we will just have to convince them."

"Don't you think it's slightly hypocritical of you two to say that?" Glorfindel asked as he turned to give them a look. "Your parents might not know of your extensive flirting with the ellith of Imladris, but I'm not blind. Elrohir, you in particular seem to be smitten with one of the chef's daughters."

Elrohir blushed bright red at the statement, because it was true that he had tried to pursue a certain chef's daughter – he hadn't been very successful, however, as she thought that the younger twin was too young for her. Elladan thought that was bull, as once an elf reached a century age didn't matter much when it came to taking a spouse due to their immortality – though, even he would admit that Elrohir wasn't quite ready for something really serious, whereas the chef's daughter – having turned a millennia last century – was quite ready for someone to sweep her off her feet.

Elladan's cheeks weren't without color either; while he hadn't pursued a particular elleth, he quite enjoyed flirting. He would defend himself, however, with that he thought he made it quite clear that he wasn't truly interested. It wasn't as if he didn't think about it from time to time, but he simply hadn't met the elleth that would make his breath hitch and his heart stop.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Elrohir finally managed to stammer out after a few seconds of silence, his head just as red as it had been moments before.

"Of course you don't," the commander of Imladris said offhandedly and went back to looking forward.

"I do quite look forward for the ball that will be held in her honor," Elladan said, distracting his twin enough for his face to return to its normal color. "As far as I've heard Haldir will be coming with the Lothlórien delegation, and the young prince will be coming with the Greenwood delegation."

"King Thranduil's heir? Legolas?" Elrohir asked surprised. "Isn't he only… Erm…"

"Thirty-three, yes," Elladan nodded. "But Ada said that King Thranduil will be bringing him along. Something about showing Legolas what lay beyond the borders of their kingdom."

"Well then I would say that Imladris is a perfect place to start," Elrohir smiled. "I heard he is quite proficient with bow and arrow despite his young ag-"

"Quiet!" Glorfindel's voice sounded from the front. Everyone immediately froze, and the twins snapped form their almost carefree banter to high alert.

It didn't take more than a few seconds to spot what had set Glorfindel on alert; the corpse of a hazel-furred horse. It hadn't been dead for long, if the rate of decay was something to be judged by. But that alone wouldn't set the commander on alert; while it was unusual, it wasn't unheard that horses escaped a trading caravan and died in the wilderness. No, what had set Glorfindel on alert were the three pitch-black and crude arrows that protruded from its flank. Elladan winced when he realized that the arrows wouldn't have killed the animal right away, and that it had most likely suffered a great deal before finally passing on.

As Glorfindel jumped off his horse and went over to the corpse, Elladan also dismounted. Wearily, the rest of the company followed suit, their eyes speeding around trying to spot any incoming hostiles. With one hand on his sword, ready to unsheathe it at any moment, the older twin walked up to the commander, who was taking a closer look at the arrows.

"They're orcish, aren't they?" Elladan whispered. While he was rather certain, he had never seen one in real life before, but only seen pictures of them in books. Glorfindel, however, had seen them many times.

"They are," Glorfindel nodded. Checking the wound he continued, "It's a relatively fresh kill, under a week. It couldn't have been too far from here, as the horse wouldn't be able to run long with an injury like this."

Elladan nodded and went over to the satchel attached to the horse. There were some food and water on top, the food being the kind that could keep fresh for a while which indicated that the horse had been part of a longer journey. There were an intricate silver hand mirror and comb, but that was the only expensive items in the bag. There were clothes, too, and while it wasn't what truly poor people would wear, it wasn't especially nice either. Elladan's breath hitched slightly when he saw a small, simply doll, desperately hoping that it wasn't a gift and that a child wouldn't have been present during the orc attack. And then he frowned as he saw the three books that lay in the bottom; they were written with tengwar scripture in Sindarin.

Elladan looked back up at the horse, wanting to make sure it was one of the mannish breeds. Confirming that, he looked back down into the satchel, and once again up on the horse.

"Is something wrong, Elladan?" Glorfindel asked, having noticed his puzzling expression.

"I am not wrong in thinking that this horse is from one of the mannish breeds, am I?"

The Balrog-slayer frowned and looked down at the dead horse. "No you are not. The horse shows none of the traits any of the elven breeds possess. Why do you ask?"

"Because," Elladan started, realizing that the rest of the company was also looking at him now. He retrieved a book from the bag and handed it to Glorfindel. "There are books in Sindarin, three of them. And they are well used, as far as I can tell. It is possible that some traders got their hands on them, but I don't know from where that should be."

Glorfindel tensed up as he looked over the books, flipping through a few pages. From what Elladan could see, it was a children's book. There were also noted and drawing scribbled down – and at least one of the drawings looked like it had been done by a child.

"Glorfindel, what does this mean?" Elrohir, who had stayed quiet so far, asked. Elladan's eyes snapped over to his younger brother; it was clear that Elrohir was tense and worried. For all his talk about wanting some action, it looked like he had finally realized that if there were some action, it could be at the cost of lives of others.

"It means…" Glorfindel said after a few seconds of heavy silence. "It means that there might be some elves out there who are in trouble. I haven't heard of any elves that should be traveling to Imladris yet, but it's not all who announces it. It might also be some travelers – no matter what, they might need our help." He clapped the book together and put it back into the satchel, which he then proceeded to throw to one of the guards. "We will split up into three, and scout in a five mile radius. If you find anything blow your horn. One blow for discovering something, two blows for danger."

"Yes sir!" they all said. Without further ado they split up into three, the three scouting parties having already been made in case something like this should happen: Elrohir and Elladan went with Glorfindel, as the remaining six split up into two parties of three as well. Mounting their horses, the three scouting parties split up, traveling in trot – fast enough to get around, but not so fast that they could miss something.

It didn't take long for Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel to notice something out of the norm. It was Elrohir who voiced it as a slight mist began forming in front of their mouths as they breathed out.

"It is getting colder," he said, looking at the plants around them. Elladan did as well, and was surprised to see frost on the edge of the leaves and on the blades of grass. That was very unusual, as they were approaching the summer month of Laer. It _was_ possible to have frost weather up until the first third of Laer, but that wasn't the case here, as everywhere else it was pleasantly warm.

"Keep watch," Glorfindel warned them as they slowed the horses down to a walk.

Elladan couldn't help but be glad he was an elf as they proceeded, as he felt the temperature drop more and more. He would be lying if he said that he didn't start to feel the start of himself freezing – that happened due to him being one of the Peredhil. His human heritage, which didn't show itself often, reared itself when the temperature dropped as low as it did now. However, it would be a long time before he was truly affected by it. It wasn't that he was concerned about was what caused this weather, as it proved now to be far from normal.

Glorfindel glanced back at the twins, knowing that in these temperatures their heritage would get to them. Elladan was about to answer when his twin beat him to it.

"Don't worry, Glorfindel," Elrohir smiled. "It will take a while before it will get to us, right Dan?"

Elladan nodded, "We'll promise to say when."

"Good," the old elf nodded. After a moment he dismounted and sent his horse back, "You should do the same. Even if we aren't affected by the cold, the horses are. It won't be good for them to move from a warm environment to a cold one. They will wait for us back in the forest." Both of the twins did as he said right away, as the Balrog-slayer withdrew his small horn and let out a long simple note. With that they continued to trek forward.

After another ten minutes of walking, with Glorfindel throwing occasionally glances at the twins despite what they said, they finally saw something. By then it was not only frost, but actual snow they were walking over. Unusual shapes stood spread out and around what looked like frozen campfires, all made of ice. Elrohir gasped as they got closer, and saw that it was actually orcs and their Wargs which were frozen. Glorfindel frowned heavily, and Elladan could understand why; these orcs were dangerously close to Imladris outer borders. Of course they wouldn't be able to enter due to his father's ring concealing the valley, but that they were even this close with that great of a number…

Elladan walked closer to one of the camp sites, starting to feel some of the chill creep up his body. Shuddering slightly, he ruffled his hands as he took a closer look at one of the frozen orcs. It was… fascinating: He had never seen a real orc before. They were just as ugly as the pictures had depicted them to be, if not more, and he could only imagined being frozen had improved its looks. It was weird how it was frozen in place, like it hadn't noticed it getting cold. He was holding a few frozen logs in his arms, as if he was simply about to throw more wood into the fire.

The ice statues were the most peculiar thing Elladan had seen yet in his life. He could truly say he had never seen anything like it before; they were beautiful (despite being orcs) yet frightening. It was bitingly cold and the sun was high in the sky, which made its rays reflect off the ice displaying a light-show like which Elladan didn't doubt he wouldn't have seen elsewhere in Endor. The only other place in Arda he could imagine a similar light-show could be seen, would be in the far north, far beyond the Forodwaith. He flicked the nose and heard a clear 'cling' resonate from the frozen orc.

"Dan? Glorfindel?" Elrohir called from past a few rocks. "I think I know where this cold is coming from… You might want to see this, because I don't think you will believe me if I tell you." Elladan looked up and made eye contact with Glorfindel about twenty meters away at another camp fire. Both of them dropped what they were doing, and walked briskly on top of the snow to move around the stones. Elladan's jaw dropped, and he even saw Glorfindel lose his composure for a fraction of the second, as he saw what Elrohir had called them to see. "Told you," it sounded from the younger twin, but with awe instead of light mocking in his voice.

Whereas the area they had just left behind only had a dozen frozen orcs around a few camp fires, this flat snow-landscapes had at least thirty ice sculptures. However, as impressive of a sight as it was, that was not what truly inspired awe in the three elves – no, what inspired awe in them was the suspended snowflakes in the air. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the air was filled with beautiful and intricate snowflakes. Glorfindel took a step forward and waved his hand through a few of them. They floated in the disturbance his movement made to the air, and then simply stopped and stayed where they were.

"That's quite a sight," Elladan finally breathed out. "Glorfindel, have you ever seen anything like this before?"

"No," Glorfindel slowly shook his head. "I haven't."

"And that's saying something," Elrohir stated, as he too stepped forward and waved his hand through the snowflakes. He looked with a tilted head as they floated a few centimeters before coming to a halt once again. "Arwen would love to see something like this. Nana, too." Elladan nodded to that, though he knew that their father wouldn't let Arwen out of Imladris for a while – especially now when they encountered orc (even if they were frozen) this close to the borders.

"Don't spread too far out," Glorfindel told them snapping them out of their admiring of the suspended snowflakes, as he started walking forward. "I think it's safe to say that whatever has caused this is still around. It is still undetermined if it's a hostile force or not." He turned around and looked both of them straight in the eye, "If we get over our heads, please remember that there is no shame in running away. Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían would be devastated if anything happened to either of you."

"Of course," Elladan said, and shot an elbow in Elrohir's ribs, as the older twin could just see that his brother was about to come with some sassy remark. Elrohir shot him a look, but Elladan simply shook his head: now was not the time.

Glorfindel nodded, and together the three of them started wandering into the magical (Elladan couldn't find another word to describe it in) winter landscape. The older twin walked around an orc… and noticed that unlike the orcs around the campfires, these orcs were _wielding_ weapons. He looked the orc over, and then looked in the direction the creature was – or rather, had been – looking at. Looking around on the other orcs, he could quickly conclude that they had all been heading in the same direction. That was the most likely place to find something, so Elladan walked briskly across the snow, his eyes flagging around, trying to catch any movement.

Elladan looked in wonder as he saw his hand start to actually shake. It was a weird sensation to not only notice the cold, but actually be affected by it. But he wouldn't let it stop him now – he'd turn back if it got much worse; after all it was but a fifteen minutes walk until he could be out in the warmth again. No need to worry where it isn't needed. He simply pulled his hands under his arms, giving what minimal protection he could.

It was at that moment he saw them. He let out a gasp, and stopped all thoughts of protecting his hands, instead running over the snow. It was three elves; an ellon and two ellith, one of them only being around thirty summers if Elladan had to take a guess. The adults' ages couldn't be determined, only that they were over a millennia and under four millennia. Elladan winced as he saw the orcish arrows protrude from the adult elleth's chest and the orcish sword impaled in the ellon's stomach. Both would have been fatal and they would've died seconds after being inflicted – at least there was that to take solace in: they didn't suffer. His heart almost broke as he saw the white-haired, blue-eyed child lay between what he could only image be her parents, grasping their hands even in death.

He knelt down to close her eyes, and then proceeded with almost jumping out of his skin as the child's eyes moved from starring into nothing to finding his. He gasped as he saw the absolute nothingness they contained, as if the girl didn't want to live anymore. After a few seconds of eye contact, where Elladan simply squatted frozen in surprise, the girl simply moved her eyes away from his and back to the sky. It took a few moments for the eldest of Lord Elrond's children to process what had happened. To process that the little girl, with skin as pale as death and hair as white as snow, was still alive. And then he sprung into action.

He quickly scooped her up in his arms, getting even more worried as he felt how light she was, and the fact that she didn't move a muscle at the action. He glanced at the two, dead, dark-haired parents, mentally promising them that he would protect their little girl. And then he set off towards his brother and Glorfindel.

"Glorfindel! Elrohir!" he yelled in distress. Their heads snapped out in a fraction of a second, probably scared out of their wits about the distress in Elladan's voice. The elder twin didn't care about that at the moment, however; the most important thing was to get the elfling to Imladris where his father could help her. All the evidence – the horse, her weight, her temperature – pointed towards her being out here for about week. And if her reaction to Elladan was anything to judge by, she wouldn't have gotten anything to eat or drink – it was a miracle that she was even still alive.

Elladan saw Glorfindel search him over with his eyes, a slight admonishing look in his eyes as there was no danger. That changed when he saw the pale elfling in the dark-haired ellon's arms; the stern exterior melted and pure horror flashed over his face, as he quickly ran up to Elladan. Elrohir wasn't long behind, and looked equally horrified at the visage of what looked like a dead elfling. It was not something humans would truly understand – yes, they also valued their children extremely highly, but they could not fathom how much of a blessing the Eldar thought the elflings to be. That was especially true during the past two millennia, as fewer and fewer elflings had been born.

"Is she…?" Elrohir started to ask, but couldn't finish the sentence. Elladan saw his brother's Adam's apple bop as he gulped down. Elladan quickly shook his head, reassuring both of the elves in front of him.

"No, she isn't," Elladan explained. "I thought she were, but as I was about to close her eyes, she looked at me. But she is very cold and very weak. I don't know how she has survived out here for so long, especially considering her age." Glorfindel looked with great pain written across his face at the small figure. Elladan glanced down at the girl, seeing her head tucked into his shoulder with the same vacant look now aimed at his chest.

"Let me take her," Glorfindel half ordered, half offered. At Elladan's scared look, he explained, "I ride faster than you do. I can be back in Imladris by tomorrow's sundown."

"Please," Elladan nodded furiously. Everything for the elfling to survive. She just couldn't die. "Her parents are dead. They lay about twenty meters over that way," Elladan motioned with his head. "Just follow where those _monsters_ are facing." Glorfindel nodded as Elladan started handing over the elfling. That was when she gasped.

Elladan flinched as a burst of cold emanated from the elfling for a fraction of a second, before disappearing. And then the snowflakes began moving: slowly at first, and then faster and faster. They were moving around them – around the elfling. Glorfindel looked with wide eyes, trying to hurry up and take the girl. That only made it worse.

"Wait!" Elladan said, having to raise his voice of the start of what could only become a snowstorm. "Stop, Glorfindel!" Glorfindel glanced at Elladan, and for a second the elder twin thought the Balrog-slayer would ignore him – after all, what did he know; he wasn't even half a millennia old. But that didn't happen: Glorfindel nodded, allowing Elladan to tuck the small figure into his arms again. "Shhh," Elladan tried soothing the girl. "It's all right, pen tithen. I'm here, nothing is going to hurt you. Av-'osto." Slowly but surely the storm subsided. Not only that, but the snowflakes which had previous been suspended midair fell to the ground as one.

"How did you do that?" Elrohir asked.

"I don't know," Elladan shrugged with thin lips. He looked down into his arms and was alarmed to see her eyes slowly close – but finally her stare held something. As she locked eyes with him, her eyes rolled into her head and she went even more limp than she had done before. Alarmed Elladan looked up at the Balrog-slayer, making motion to give him the elfling, "Glorfindel!"

"You take her," Glorfindel said firmly. "I don't know how her Gift works, but I think it reacts to her being distressed. Somehow she trusts you to an extent, so you should take her." He looked down at the elfling with tense jaw caused by worry, "Elladan, you understand that you cannot stop for anything, right? Her life depends on you reaching Lord Elrond as soon as possible."

"And her parents?" Elladan couldn't help but ask.

"We'll take care of them," Glorfindel said solemnly, Elrohir nodding in agreement. "Now, go!"

Elladan needn't be told twice, and set off as fast as he could towards the forest, towards where he knew his horse was waiting. Never before had he run so fast – and to be honest, never had he needed to. He didn't know what it was about the little elfling that woke such protective instincts in him; he _needed_ to save her. He needed to make sure that she opened her eyes again. He needed to at least give her a chance to live again.

Looking up to the heavens, Elladan prayed, "Elbereth grant me strength. It is not yet time for this elfling to reach the golden shores of Valinor. Watch over us as we ride to Imladris."

* * *

**Imladris – Deep Valley of the Cleft – Rivendell**

**Nana – Mother/Mom (Informal)**

**Ada – Father/Dad (Informal)**

**Ellyn – Male Elves**

**Nethig – Little Sister**

**Ellith – Female Elves**

**Elleth – Female Elf**

**Lothlórien - Lórien of the Blossom – The Golden Woods**

**Tengwar – Letters (In Quenya) – the elven 'alphabet'**

**Laer – one of the 'months' in the elven calendar. It's the summer month.**

**Peredhil – Half-Elves**

**Endor – Middle Earth**

**Forodwaith – Northern Waste**

**Pen tithen – Little One**

**Av-'osto - [you] don't fear - Don't be afraid**

**Author's Notes:** And that was chapter one! I hope you all liked it. Elladan is a lot of fun to write, because there is so much freedom with both he and his twin. They aren't explored much – in fact, it isn't even one hundred percent confirmed that they are twins (though, it is fair to say it is highly probable). I hope you all will be all right with him taking a large role in the story (which is also why I have put him in the character list of the story). No, he will _not_ be a romantic interest, but rather a big brother to Faenel.

I also want to address something concerning keeping characters in character: I want to remind you all that this story starts almost _three_ millennia before Lord of the Rings, and that especially the young elves (Arwen, Legolas, Haldir, Elladan, and Elrohir) only are a few hundred years old. A lot can happen in the thousands of years between this story and the War of the Ring, so while their core values will be the same, don't expect to see the absolute same person as you have potentially read about in the books/seen in the movies. A few things that I can point out will happen between this story and the War of the Ring is this: Greenwood the Great being invaded by darkness, and thus gaining the name Mirkwood; Celebrían being ambushed by orcs, ending with her traveling to Valinor; the events in the Hobbit; Arwen falling in love with Aragon; and the generally growing darkness in Middle Earth. I hope you will be able to accept that.

Furthermore, about the maturing rate of elves: According to the Lord of the Rings wikia, elves reach maturity at the age of fifty. Taking that into account, and deciding to set the age of physical maturity to twenty, the elves in this story will age 2,5 times slower than humans. That means that an elf of thirty years old will be as physical mature as a human of the age of twelve. But still I thought that for an elf it was a bit young to be an 'adult' at the age of fifty, especially since they are immortal. That's why I decided that even if they are fully physical mature, in their culture they are only seen as adults after a century when they will be more mature mentally. Hope that explains any potential confusion.

I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. Please review or PM me to tell what you thought of it.

Tempest Out


	3. Safety in Sanctuary

**Chapter Two:** Safety in Sanctuary

"_Finding a sanctuary, a place apart from time, is not so different from finding a faith."_

_~ Pico Iyer, Falling Off the Map: Some Lonely Places of The World_

* * *

When Faenel had first opened her eyes, she thought that perhaps that she had awoken in the Halls of Mandos. Her father had told her tales of it, like he had told her tales of the rest of Valinor and the Valar. He had told her that no matter how one would arrive on the Golden Shores, whether it be by ship or by awakening in the Halls of Waiting, there would be peace. There was nothing to worry about in the land of the Valar, and there wouldn't be until the End Days and the Dagor Dagorath. There was only love and laughter, family and friends. It was the land all elves were destined to walk upon in due time, and where they would once again be one people.

But… she couldn't be in the Halls of Mandos. If she had passed on and her spirit had awoken in the Halls, her parents would be there telling her that everything would be all right. They would tell her that they loved her, and they would promise her that nothing like what had happened to them would ever happen to her again. If she had awoken in the Halls of Mandos she wouldn't feel like she had been trampled down by a horse – she wouldn't feel this weak. She wouldn't feel like she could sleep for half an age, and her head wouldn't be pounding along with her heartbeat. She wasn't in Valinor, and she wasn't with her parents.

That thought sent pain shooting through her chest, as a chocked sob escaped her throat. Faenel wasn't numb anymore: she could feel just how much it hurt to know that her parents had passed on to Mandos. She knew she would see them again at one point, but that could be forever. It would be a very long time, until she would laugh with her mother again. It would be a very long time, until she would snuggle into her father's side, as he told Faenel her favorite bedtime story again. It would be a very long time until she would see how proud they were, when she showed them a new trick she had learned to do with her Gift. It would be a very long time until she would hear them tell her that they loved her.

As tears streamed down Faenel's cheeks, a slow snowfall began inside the room. A light layer of snow slowly formed in the room she was in, but she didn't care. She was alone. Her parents' souls were across the world in The Undying Lands, and she was still in Endor. Why couldn't she have died with them? Why did she have to be separated from them?

Faenel didn't know for how long she lay crying – her sense of time hadn't returned yet –, but at some point the tears simply stopped. She took a deep ragged breath as she turned her head to actually look at where she was. She was laying a large bed in a light room, all alone. The room she was in was filled with suspended snowflakes, and she vaguely noticed that the bed and a small radius of the floors and wall around it were covered in a layer of frost. Frowning at how out of control her Gift was, Faenel closed her eyes and concentrated hard on making the snow and ice disappear. Painfully, she remembered how her father had helped her learn it. Bringing all the love she felt for her parents to the forefront of her mind, and in the process bringing up another broken sob, she felt the peace to do what she wanted. She immediately felt the drain of energy in her already exhausted body, but when she opened her eyes the room was void of any evidence of her Gift.

Finally being able to see the room she was in properly, Faenel pushed her herself up into a sitting position and sat in awe. If someone had asked her, she would say that this could just as well had been the Halls of Mandos, if it wasn't for how she felt: it was nothing like she had ever seen before. The room had an elegance that she had never seen before in any of the human villages she had lived in. Flowing lines, tendrils, intricate circles and semi-circles ran across the walls in a more-or-less abstract manner that formed birds, flowers, and all kind of things from the natural world, which were rendered in rich but muted colors. Thin and beautiful columns rose from the floor and ran along the walls, ending in ceiling in a sharp peak, making the room seem that much larger than it already was.

The wall opposite her bed opened up to the outside, as it was almost completely made up of glassless windows. Faenel couldn't see much of the outside from where she was sitting, as the branches of a large cherry tree in full bloom obstructed much of the view. The young elfling didn't mind, however, with how beautiful the cherry-blossoms looked – it almost made her smile. A wind wafted through the cherry tree, making the branches sway slightly and knocking a few petals loose, and into the room. It played with Faenel's hair as it caressed her skin almost lovingly, and in the process bringing the strong smell of not only cherry blossoms into the room, but also the smell of forest and summer.

A small smile broke out on Faenel's face, thought it quickly slipped from her as memories came rushing into her mind. Memories of her playing in the forest with her parents: she and her mother walking as she told the story of Yavanna, creator of trees and plants, and the one responsible for the creation of the Onodrim; and she and her father playing catch in the woods, and the two of them looking for pretty stones, and gnarled roots resembling animals.

The memories put a dampener on her mood, bittering the scents she could smell. However, they didn't stop her from wanting to see the outside, and she proceeded with throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, and throwing off her duvet in the process. Her eyes widened in surprise at finding herself donned in a beautiful white nightgown. Blushing bright red at the thought of someone dressing her, and thus having to have undressed her, the young elf let her hand run down the fabric. She marveled at the softness it had, especially since it was still quite strong. She had never worn anything like it before: while her family wasn't poor, they weren't especially rich since they hadn't been able to settle down anywhere. The clothes she normally wore could be felt on the skin – this, however, felt like liquid running over the skin. Looking down at her duvet, she found it to be made of a similar fabric. She brought it up to her face and rubbed her cheek against it, closing her eyes at the pleasant sensation.

Another breeze wafted through the open window, again bringing the smell of flowers and summer with it. It reminded Faenel why she had discovered she was dressed in a nightgown in the first place (the thought made her blush again), and made her stand from the bed. She wobbled slightly on her bare feet, and grabbed a bed post until she was sure she wouldn't fall. Faenel carefully took a step, still wobbling slightly but not as much as she had the moment before. Slowly but surely, the young elf made her way over to the windows, standing in one which wasn't covered by the cherry tree. Her eyes widened in awe at the sight.

Buildings that resembled liquid silver seemed to be built upon water and air, as they sat halfway up tall cliffs. From the top of the mountains surrounding the valley the city – because it certainly was large enough to be called a city, and not just a village – sprung waterfalls of crystal clear water, which fell in between buildings without hitting them, and further down the cliffs, ultimately ending in the single large river that ran throughout the length of the valley. Archways connected different parts of the city, continuing the architecture that she had observed in the room she was in; the archways consisted of graceful columns ending in a sharp-end point. At the moment the city was bathed in an orange light of the late afternoon, which made the buildings almost shine, increasing the beauty which was already there tenfold.

Faenel started frowning as she tried to remember she came to be there. The last thing she remembered was the white landscape. Looking down at her hands as she opened her right one, Faenel let her Gift release a bit of her magic: a small stream of ice-blue snowflakes and frost played around her hands as she moved her fingers, as she tried to remember what had happened.

She had been lying between her parents – for how long, Faenel didn't remember – when something had change. She had heard voiced in the wind, speaking in the Sindarin tongue. Then after some time – again, Faenel couldn't recall after how much time – she had seen movement out of the corner of her eyes. She hadn't looked towards the shape, before it started moving towards her. When she had, the shape had let out a sharp breath of surprise, as his hand, which had been moving towards her face , jerked back.

Faenel frowned deeply as she watched the snowflakes snake itself around her hand, desperately trying to remember the appearance of the shape. But for all she was worth, she couldn't remember anything about the shape, other than it had been a male human or an ellon. She could remember that she had looked at him for a while – which is why she was surprised she could remember nothing but his gender about him –, as he had been looking with wide eyes at her. And then she had simply turned her sight back towards the clear, blue sky.

Moments later she had felt herself getting swept up into the stranger's arms. Very vividly, Faenel could remember how it had felt being in his arms, leaning against his shoulder: his skin had felt like hot iron against hers, his clothing only preventing the smallest amount of heat to enter her. It had been both comforting and disconcerting: on one hand it had proved that she actually hadn't gone numb, and that she was still able to feel, but on the other hand she hadn't – and honestly still wasn't – sure if she truly wanted to feel again.

It was odd… She had felt oddly safe in his arms. She had been ready to just lie down and die before he had come, and that scared her. Her parents would have, if they had been alive, looked so disappointed at her – she could almost see them shake their heads, with those shaming eyes, with their eyebrows slightly askew. But Faenel hadn't died: the stranger had saved her. He had scooped her up into his arms and held her tightly against his chest. The warmth of his body had slowly but surely spread throughout hers, setting each and every one of her nerves on fire. It had made her gasp, finally feeling alive again. Mere seconds after that, she had felt as the last of her energy had slipped from her, leaving her feeling incredibly and unbelievably tired.

"Ah, it is good to see you awake," a voice sounded from behind Faenel. Not having expected any – which was rather naïve, now that she thought about, since she was in a place she didn't know –, the young elf let out a yelp of surprise, losing the grasp of her magic. It shot out of her hand and spread around the window she had been standing at. Spinning around, Faenel saw an elleth standing just inside the door. She was incredible beautiful with flawless alabaster skin which shone almost like the buildings reflecting the afternoon sun. Her dark braided hair fell to the small of her back, not a single strand out of place, and her eyes were a bright grey like a cloudless night. Focusing on the elleth's eyes, Faenel couldn't help but find them familiar – though where the elfling had seen them before, she could not recall.

It was at that moment that Faenel noticed how wide-eyed the elleth looked at the window behind the young elfling. The newcomer was looking at the ice her Gift had created. Faenel took in another sharp breath, this time in fear: it had been twenty years since anyone else other than her parents had known about her gift, and they had chased her out of the village. She was _not_ ashamed of her Gift, but the only one who had ever reacted positively to it had passed away. She started trembling like an aspen leaf, another set of memories getting dug up from her past, this time being vague images of her family leaving the elven village in the dark of the night.

"You do not have to be afraid, pen tithen," the elleth said, seemingly noticing the fear of Faenel. As she took a step forward, Faenel flinched violently, and the elleth faltered. "I am Arwen Undómiel. What is your name?" Faenel didn't answer, but just crept farther away, to the corner of the room, as far away from the stranger as possible. Arwen, as she had presented herself, looked almost sadly at her. Sighing deeply, she turned around and walked towards the door. Faenel thought that perhaps she was leaving again – in fact she hoped she was –, but the beautiful elleth simply stuck her head outside the room and spoke some words. From where Faenel was standing, and in her agitated state, she was not able to make out the words.

A moment later Arwen closed the door softly, to face Faenel once again. She seemed to move awfully slowly, as if trying not to scare the elfling more than she already was. The elleth glanced over at a chair by the bed, and then back at Faenel. Pointing at the chair, Arwen asked, "May I take a seat?"

Wearily, Faenel looked Arwen's face over. The older elleth looked to mean no harm, her eyes shining with sincerity. However, that didn't mean that Faenel would just drop all of her guards and trust her – but… she could at least allow the beautiful elf to sit down. It was, after all, also several meters from where Faenel currently was. So with apprehension written over her face, Faenel nodded slowly, and watched as Arwen – still with extraordinary slowly motions – walked over the chair and sat down. And then she just sat there, looking curiously at Faenel.

By then Faenel wasn't trembling anymore. She was still extremely cautions, and at the same time very curiously. Several times the elflings eyes had moved to look at the elleth's ears, proving that she in fact was one of the Eldar. Faenel couldn't help but wonder if all elves had black or dark hair – although Arwen's hair were a more shining dark brown, compared to her parent's consuming dark hair, it was still dark –, and that she was just the odd one, or if there were other elves who had white hair, or at the least light hair. Unaware of her actions before she had moved, Faenel had moved her hand up to and grabbed a strain of her white hair, looking at it curiously.

"You got beautiful hair, you know," Arwen's voice sounded from across the room. Again Faenel startled, but managed not to jump so much. She glanced over at the elleth in the chair. "I haven't seen anyone with hair like yours. Has it always been like that?" Faenel nodded slowly. "How old are you?" Arwen asked. Faenel didn't answer, looking away from the elleth's face as she wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to create some sort of barrier, however futile, between them. The white-haired elfling waited for the older elleth to demand to know her age, but as Faenel glanced up, Arwen simply had sad look in her eyes.

Faenel felt so exposed to Arwen, and she didn't like it. The reason for that was quite simple: she was not used to it. Now, it wasn't as if she had never been exposed before, because she had: to both her mother and father she was an open book – nothing was hidden from them. And that was okay, because if there was something wrong, they could usually make it better in no time because they knew her. But they had been the only people she had ever been exposed to. In a way Faenel had been sheltered, preventing her from experiencing what it was like to be close to other people. It wasn't deliberately, but with her only knowing a few words in Westron, the human children knowing _none_ in Sindarin, and Faenel having to keep her Gift a secret, it was just too much trouble making friends.

And now she was here – wherever here was – in front of a beautiful elleth who spoke Sindarin, and who knew (or at least just found out) about her Gift. Every obstacle she had ever had when making friends had been overcome, and yet Faenel found herself very hesitant. Of course that might just have a _tiny_ bit doing with her parents just dying, she waking up in a strange place, and the elleth being a stranger. To be truthful, Faenel was scared down to the very core of her person.

Jumping again as the door opened again, Faenel began shrinking in on herself, as she saw not one, but _four_ ellyn enter the room. With wide eyes she looked them over briefly as they walked over to Arwen, one of them laying a hand on her shoulder, before they all looked at her. She flinched – again.

"Undómiel," the first one greeted Arwen. There was so much warmth in his voice, carried with just that single word, that it was almost palpable. Faenel hesitantly looked up on the one who had spoke, grateful that his eyes were on the elleth at the moment, and not her. The first thing Faenel noticed was that he had the same familiar eyes that Arwen had – grey eyes, shining like starlight. They were set in an ageless face which resembled neither old nor young. However, Faenel could tell he was not young by the memories and experiences of potentially thousands of years. His fair face was framed by two small braids of dark hair, which started below a slim circlet of silver, the rest of it running behind his ears down to between his shoulders, resting against the burgundy ropes. He was the most venerable person she had ever seen – though, she would admit that she hadn't met many with the same potential.

"Hello Arwen," the elf besides the ageless one said, making Faenel's eyes snap to him. Her earlier reflections, about if she was the only elf with light hair, was quickly proven false; the first thing she noticed about the ellon was his mane of golden hair. Sure, it wasn't white, but it was leagues closer to her own hair-color, than Arwen's was. He was tall and straight, and the fairest elf she had seen so far, his face being fearless at the same time as it was full of joy. His eyes were blue – blue like a summer's sky, and not like hers which most of all resembled ice upon a lake. It was at that moment that she noticed that he was smiling amusedly, as he was also looking at her. She blushed bright red, and her eyes flew so fast to her own feet, that she was surprised they were still in their sockets.

"Hello Ada, Glorfindel," the dark-haired elleth greeted back. Faenel didn't need to be told who were who, as it was very clear that the ellon with the sun-kissed hair was Glorfindel, while the other one, with the strikingly familiar grey eyes, were her father.

"What about us?"

"Yeah, don't we deserve a hello as well?"

"Really, you would think that our own nethig would remember to greet her brothers."

"It truly hurts, Arwen. Right in the heart."

It was two very similar voices that spoke up, which Faenel guessed belonged to the last two ellyn – she was still looking firmly at her own two feet, not wanting to embarrass herself further. They spoke with laughter in their voices, taking over where the other left off, as soon as the other left off. If Faenel wasn't in the mood she was in, she would most likely find it funny. Arwen didn't however – at least not in this moment. She sighed heavily, telling the elfling that it wasn't the first time this 'discussion', if you could even call it that, had happened.

"Elladan, Elrohir," Arwen spoke in a slightly cooler tone, than she had done to their father and Glorfindel. But however much she must've tried, she couldn't get rid of the love that was conveyed in her voice.

"Uh oh, full names, 'Dan. That can't be good," one of the voices said. It must be Elrohir, Faenel thought, since he addressed 'Dan – which she was pretty confident was a nickname for Ella_dan_.

"I think you are right, 'Ro. Though I can't figure out for what reason," the other – Elladan – said with a grin his voice. "Perhaps our dear sister has simply missed us so much while we were out on patrol? Don't you worry, Arwen, we will be here for your birthday. We wouldn't want any ellon, especially that fair-haired Haldir, to get anywhere near you. He turned a hundred a few decades ago, did he not?"

"And you did speak an awful lot about him when we visited eithog and mavwen in Lothlórien. And on the _whole_ way home. And you have mentioned more than a couple of times here and there. It's rather suspicious, don't you think?"

"I would say so," Elladan finished in a final tone, as if they had won their sibling-argument.

"I do not-" Arwen started, embarrassment as clear in her voice as a full moon is in a night sky.

"Children!" the voice of their father cut her off. The single word was spoken softly but firmly. Now, Faenel had only just met the ellon – and she hadn't even talked to him (not that she was planning to, just yet) –, but she could imagine that he was the kind of person who had not need to speak at length. Not when he could convoy so much in so few words.

"Goheno nin," they all muttered as one. Faenel couldn't help but crack the ghost of a smile at that – it was clear that they were very close; she could see that just by the way they acted around each other. The beginning of a smile fell from her face as she remembered who closer her own family had been: they only had each other for night twenty years. To some elves that might not seem like a very long time, but to Faenel it was two thirds of her life.

"Pen tithen," the ageless elf then said softly. Slowly Faenel looked up from her feet to see him smiling reassuringly at her, "It's all right. They are not going to hurt you. You are safe here."

It was then that Faenel finally saw the last two ellyn in the room. She startled slightly at their identical (not similar, but _identical_) appearances. It hit her like a ton of bricks, as clear memories rushed back as she saw them. It had been one of them – whichever one she didn't know – who had saved her. It had been one of them who had kneeled towards her in the landscape of ice and snow and cold. It had been one of them who had swept her up in his arms, his body heat immediately starting to sear its way into her own body, setting her nerves of fire. It had been one of them who had made her want to not to die out there. It was one of them that she last saw before her eyes closed, and it must've been one of them who had brought her here – wherever here was.

They were both fair and tall (they were the tallest in the room, if only by a few centimeters). Both of them had pitch black hair – compared to their sister's and their father's hair which where an extremely dark brown, which borderline on black –, much like the hair of her own parents. There was one major difference, however; whereas her mother's and father's hair had been an all-consuming black, these two ellyn's hair all but shone with light and laughter (Faenel hadn't even been aware that hair could do that). At the moment they wore their hair loose, as it fell to below their shoulders on top of their brightly colored tunics, colored in brown and green respectively. Faenel knew, though, that at least the one who had saved her had worn his hair in braids that at the same time resembled the one his father wore at the moment, but was still fundamentally different.

And then there were the eyes. It was those eyes that had set the clear memories through her head. Those strikingly grey eyes, which shone like starlight like their father's, and yet seemed like the grey of an overcast sky. Those eyes who had looked so panicked in the ice landscape. And, now, it was also by those eyes she could tell the one who had saved her from the one who hadn't: the set of eyes on the let seemed so relieved, like a great worry had been taken off his shoulders. She knew it was him. And before even having given it a second though, Faenel ran across the room to the ellon. She hugged him tightly, afraid that if she let him go he too would disappear – and right now he was the only one she trusted, and buried her head in his green tunic, her shoulders shaking slightly from sobs as she began crying again.

He seemed shocked the first fraction of a second, while the rest of the room also was silent, and then he got down on his knees to be at level with her. Faenel tried to press herself tighter towards him, her head resting on his shoulder – the same shoulder that her head had rested on the time before she was in his arms –, and he wrapped his arms around her, running his right hand up and down her back to sooth her. And she bawled.

"Everything is going to be alright, pen tithen," he soothed her in his melodic voice.

* * *

**Dagor Dagorath – Final Battle**

**Onodrim – Tree-Hosts - Ents**

**Pen tithen – Little One**

**Undómiel - Evenstar (evening star)**

**Nethig – Little Sister**

**Eithog – (male) ancestor – used here to refer to their grandfather, Celeborn.**

**Mavwen – (female) ancestor – used here to refer to their grandmother, Galadriel.**

**Goheno nin – Forgive me (I'm Sorry)**

**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the longish time for this to be updated. I originally planned for it to be out Saturday evening, but I was caught in the snares of a game (many of you will know that that happens). But it's out now, and I will try my best not to be too long before the next chapter is out. I won't make any promises, as I simply don't believe in absolutes – a lot can happen in a few days that I have absolutely no power over. But, as I said, a few days is my goal.

Anyway, I hoped you liked the chapter. I know that it is five-hundred words shorter than the previous chapter, and I tried to get it up on the five-thousand word count, but every time I wrote an extra paragraph it seemed just unusually expendable and unnecessary. I would rather have the chapter be a tiny bit shorter, than I would lower the quality by adding additional paragraphs that just drags the reader along. I hope you can agree to that, or at least accept it.

I would like to say again that Elladan and Faenel is _not_ going to be a couple. At all. In fact, with how much I have thought out their relationship (as siblings), it just seems to wrong. This story is fully and undeniably a Legolas/Faenel story. Though, that they will end up together doesn't mean that everything will just go perfect – love isn't like that; it's crazy and irrational, and things rarely go the way you want them to. Rest assured that I won't put too much drama into the story; this is a romance and (eventual) adventure story.

Also, Arwen and Haldir won't be a couple either. That doesn't mean that they can't have a close relationship of a sorts. I find the stories where Arwen haven't had a single potential love interest throughout her almost three-thousand year old life naïve. I'm not saying that Arwen acted on any of those potential love interest in any other way than getting to know the other, but to say that she simply hasn't felt interest for another person in the nearly three millennia before she met Aragorn kind of makes her person… sad.

I'll stop rambling now. I hope you will leave me either a review or a PM, telling me what you think of the chapter and the story as a whole. I try to answer all the reviews I get, so if you want an answer, please remember to turn on your message bos thingy.

Tempest Out.


	4. Home and Hearth

**Disclaimer:** A small section of this chapter is taken from the story 'The Tortoise and the Hare' from _Aesop's Fables_. I do not claim ownership to it.

**Chapter Three:** Home and Hearth

"_You don't have to say everything to be a light. Sometimes a fire built on a hill will bring interested people to your campfire."_

_~ Shannon L. Alder_

* * *

It had been little over a week since Faenel had awoken, and two-and-a-half weeks since she arrived in Imladris. Because that was where she was – Imladris, known as Rivendell in Westron, The Last Homely Home East of the Sea, East of Aman, and House of Lord Elrond Peredhil.

Yes, Faenel had hear about Imladris before, as she had heard about the other realms as well: The Golden Woods of Lothlórien, Heart of Elvendom in Endor; The Woodland Realm of Greenwood the Great; and Realm of the High King and Land of the Singers, Lindon. Faenel had, of course, never been to any of the realms since her family had fled the village she had been born in. She knew that the village she had been born in had laid in the outskirts of Lothlórien, a small one to be sure. Her parents had been accepted there after having escaped the fall of Eregion during War of the Elves and Sauron, even with them being of the Ñoldor, while the rest of the small community were of the Silvan. It was because of this reason that the elven realm Faenel longed most to see was Lothlórien, but Imladris had always been a close second.

What had always fascinated her about Imladris was not its beauty, nor was it its welcoming spirit towards not only elves, but also men, and to a degree dwarves. No, what had Faenel fascinated about Imladris was its knowledge: it was well known that even if Greenwood's deep caverns and Lothlórien's golden and silver leaves were more beautiful than Imladris' waterfalls, no realm outside of Aman could compete with Imladris' knowledge of the world. Lindon might have once rivaled Imladris' knowledge, and Ondolindë did for sure, but the former was a shadow of its former self, and the latter had fallen long ago to the forces of Melkor.

According to the stories Faenel's father had told – because it was him, and not her mother, who had been to Imladris before –, Imladris library was filled with bookshelves that reached the ceiling, and spanned over such a great areal, that if you haven't grown up there, you needed someone to guide you through the labyrinth of bookcases. Faenel's father told how Lords and Kings, Ladies and Queens, of old had come to Imladris to seek wisdom to solve their realm's problems – he had even told how a dwarf, one of Durin's heirs, had asked for advice, but Faenel thought that was a bit of stretch. He had but had brief glimpse of the library when he was in Imladris a few centuries after its founding – he went to see if a cousin of his had perhaps escaped with Elrond, but found out he hadn't –, and admitted that he was still in awe to the day he told Faenel the story.

Faenel had always loved learning new things, whether it be knowledge from a book, or how to knot an especially difficult knot. When she had excitedly told either her mother or her father (many times both) about a new thing she had learned, they had smiled proudly at her and told her that the Ñoldor blood in her flowed thickly. Faenel still didn't understand what that meant, but it could only be a good thing. Her parents tried to get her as many books as they could, but it was hard when she could only read Sindarin. They had just begun to teach her Westron, when… when they couldn't anymore.

She longed to see the library, but even with her being in Imladris, awake, for a week now, she hadn't. In fact, she hadn't seen anything but her room, the view from her room, and the hallway outside of her room. For the first four days it was because Lord Elrond wanted her to take it easy: they didn't know how long she had laid out there (and neither did she), but it was for a fair amount of time – a fair amount of time where she neither ate nor drank (which is just as bad for elves as it is for men, especially when the elf in question is still growing) –, and she would need some time to recover. Faenel hadn't minded, as she wasn't too keen to go exploring. Exploring meant meeting new people, and meeting new people meant having to interact and talk with them – so far she had only truly interacted with Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, and Arwen, and she had talked to none of them. This was also the reason why when Elrond had told her three days ago that she could start walking around, that she hadn't.

It was only Elladan and Elrond she let physically close to her: Elladan because for some reason she felt complete trust in him (not even Faenel knew why that was), and Elrond because he had to since he was her healer (though, she did flinch quite a lot at the contact, confusing Elrond to thinking she was in pain). The others stayed a respectfully two meters away from her when they could. Faenel was confused why they complied with what she needed (after all, she was all but a stranger to them, as they were to her), but she didn't complain. Also, after her first reaction with being in a room full of strangers, they seemed to try and limit themselves to be only one in the room at the time, two at most.

For the most part it was Elladan who would be there. He would talk to her about everything and nothing, simply trying to make her feel good. He would pause once in a while to see if she would answer verbally, but she didn't – if it was a yes/no question, she would shake her head or nod, but nothing more. The pauses where he was expecting a verbal answer, and she simply didn't answer, she was afraid that he would leave her as well, but he didn't: he went on as if nothing had happened. Faenel didn't know why she didn't talk, she just couldn't get herself to do it. Taking out of account that most of her life she had only spoken to her parents, every time she thought of speaking up, there was something preventing her from doing it.

Elladan had also on her third day brought her some of her belongings. Apparently the reason that the patrol he had been on had found her, was because of them having uncovered the corpse of the horse her family had been using. Faenel had felt sadness at the knowledge of their horse, Moroch, having died. Of course it was nowhere even near the amount of sadness (if that could even be measured) that she felt about her parents passing. They had bought him as a young horse not long after they had left the village in Lórien, and he had been a firm companion for her. It was even Faenel that had named him: Moroch, meaning black horse due to his color. It wasn't very imaginative, but hey; she had only been eleven years old. Anyway, the patrol Elladan had been on, had found a satchel attached to Moroch, and in it a few belongings. There wasn't much, as they didn't have much due to their lifestyle, but it was undeniably and fully theirs.

Still, those objects hadn't even crossed her mind once in the three days after she had awoken, and, truly, she didn't know if she would had ever thought of them in the future. It was a shock when he had brought them, rushing a swell of mixed, swirling emotions through her.

- _Flashback -_

_Faenel had been sitting by the window when the knock on the door had sounded. Since she wasn't allowed, and quite honestly didn't know if she was able, to walk all the way down to the refectory, Lord Elrond had her brought some food three times a day – at least he did that the day before. He had also a small table and chair brought up, since only a bed, a bedside table, and a chair at the bedside were the only furniture in the room otherwise. At the first chance she had gotten, she had Elladan move the desk and chair over to the window – or rather, Elladan had seen her struggling to push the heavy table, and had quickly taken over –, where she would be able to enjoy the view while eating_

_By the time that the knocking on the door had occurred, Faenel had been finished with her breakfast for quite some time. She didn't have a clock in the room, so she couldn't tell the exact time, but she would guess it was around half past ten. Looking over at the door from her seat, she didn't say anything, but simply waited for whoever was outside to open the door. It was only two seconds after the knocking had sounded, that Elladan peeked inside, most likely to see if she was up. When his eyes landed on her he smiled and stepped fully inside._

"_Good morning, pen tithen," he smiled at her. As she had done the morning before as well, she had simply smiled at him. She knew very well that the smile didn't reach her eyes, but as her mother had told her, when she tried to do something nice, but failed: it's the thought that counts. "How are you on this fine morning?" he continued, not being fazed by her lack of verbal answer. Faenel shrugged lightly before looking out the window, enjoying the peaceful environment that was there – which was at least better than the day before, where she had looked down casted away from him. "Hmm, that is at least better than me. Ro thought that I was sleeping in, so he decided to wake me with a bucket of water in the face. The water I mean – the bucket stayed safely in his hands." Faenel's head whipped back to look at Elladan in disbelief, a ghost of a smile on her face. Elladan looked pleased, as if that was what he had been aiming for all along._

_Elladan grinned at her, as he walked over to her bed where he sat down. It was then that Faenel noticed the satchel he had with him. It looked familiar. Extremely familiar. Her eyes widened when she finally placed where the russet satchel was from; it was the one her father had bought in the last village. Mutedly she rose from her seat, and very carefully walked towards Elladan, her eyes being solely on the satchel._

"_We weren't sure if you wanted this, under the circumstances," Elladan said, breaking Faenel's trance-like state. She looked up at Elladan with hesitant eyes full of questions. "We found it near your horse's corpse. It was how we found you, or rather why we began looking. If it hadn't been for Glorfindel spotting the horse, we could very well have returned here without knowing about what happened to you or your parents." Faenel winced at that comment, and felt like the wind had just been pushed out of her lungs. "Sorry."_

_She sat up beside him on the bed, with the satchel in his lap. After simply having looked at it for about twenty seconds, with shaky hands she opened it up. Her breath hitched as the smell of her parents wafted out of the small space, making her freeze up. It made her realize that she had forgotten it. She had __**forgotten**__ her parent's smell. She looked up at Elladan as he soothingly ran his warm up and down her back. He smiled sadly at her, but didn't do anything else – she liked that: every time she would freeze up (more than she already was), he would simply be there, not demanding anything of her._

_Taking a deep breath while counting to ten, she blew out having calmed slightly down. Digging into the satchel, she brought out the first item that she got her hands on: it was a doll. Her doll: Eliasell. It was nothing special; cheap material with a drawn on face, hay as hair, and a small dress her mother had made for it. It had been a gift from her mother on her twentieth birthday. Up until she was about thirty, she had been sleeping with it every night – and after that, it had still been her favorite toy, despite her age. Looking at it with big sad eyes, she hugged it tightly, remembering how it had comforted her when she was younger and woke up from a nightmare._

_Putting it down beside her, Faenel dug into the bag again. She was aware that the starlight-eyed ellon beside her was looking intriguingly at Eliasell, but paid no mind to him at the moment: her complete focus was on the satchel's contents. The next thing she grasped was her mother's handheld mirror. It was made of silver, and had intricate lines running down the handles and on the back of the mirror – actually, not much unlike how the walls were in Imladris, just on a smaller scale. She had said it had belonged to her grandmother – Faenel's great grandmother –, and that she had left it along with a silver comb with Faenel's mother before she sailed to Valinor. Quickly digging through the satchel, Faenel's hand quickly found the object, and she retrieved it. It was of the same design as the mirror, but with a small – like the size of her pinky-finger's nail – sapphire embedded halfway down its spine. Faenel's mother had said that the two heirlooms would belong to Faenel on her hundredth birthday … guess she would get them a bit sooner._

"_They're beautiful," Elladan said beside her. "May I?" he asked and held a hand out. She handed him the mirror, still looking at the comb herself. He accepted it, and, Faenel saw out of the corner of her eye, looked at it as he let one of his fingers follow one of the lines. "Did they belong to your mother?" Faenel nodded and threw him a sad smile. She laid the comb very carefully down on the bed, Elladan doing the same with the mirror._

_The next few things that Faenel retrieved from the satchel was pieces of clothing. After having worn such high-quality clothing as she had the last few days, it was comforting, to some extent, to feel the slightly scratchy material. The clothing themselves she didn't care about as such – they were just that: clothing. But still, it was the last of her life that she had, so when she brought a new piece of clothing out of the satchel, she folded it nicely, before putting it in a pile beside the comb and the mirror. There wasn't much, Faenel noticed, and figured that the other two satchels must've been lost._

_Then Faenel brought out three books, one at a time. The first one was a history book – not a story book, but a history book, as in what had happened in the past. The second one was the book her father was using to teach her Westron. And finally the third book was her fairy-tale book. Having put the first two books beside the pile of clothes, she looked at the cover of the last one; it was as colorful as a cover could get, filled with all sorts of beings from the many stories in the book. Closing her eyes as she hugged the book, she remembered back to innumerable evenings where her parents had sat with her, reading from the book, as she fell asleep. _

"_Is that a fairytale-book?" Elladan asked from beside her. Looking up at him, and then back at the book, Faenel nodded. And then, for the first time since she had awoken, her face brightened truly up. She looked up at Elladan with a small smile – which seemed to shock him for a moment for he smiled brightly back –, and she pushed the empty satchel down on the floor. Putting the book in his lap, she quickly turned over page after page of the book, until it landed on her favorite story: the Tortoise and the Hare. It wasn't long, and it wasn't complicated, but there was something about the story which had always caught her fancy. She looked up at Elladan expectantly, and he let out a booming laughter. "All right, all right; I get it," he said and picked up the book._

"_Once upon a time-" Elladan got to recite, before Faenel suddenly got an idea, and crawled under his arm and into his lap. With feet hanging over his legs and the bed, and the back of her head resting on 'her' shoulder, she looked at the illustration of the fast hare and the slow tortoise in the book. She could feel Elladan chuckle slightly, as his chest vibrated, but he didn't move her. He started again from the top._

"_Once upon a time there was a hare who, boasting how he could run faster than anyone else, was forever teasing tortoise for its slowness. Then one day, the irate tortoise answered back: 'Who do you think you are? There's no denying you're swift, but even you can be beaten!'_

_The hare squealed with laughter. 'Beaten in a race? By whom? Not you, surely! I bet there's nobody in the world that can win against me, I'm so speedy. Now, why don't you try?'_

_Annoyed by such bragging, the tortoise accepted the challenge. A course was planned, and the next day at dawn they stood at the starting line. The hare yawned sleepily as the meek tortoise trudged slowly off. When the hare saw how painfully slow his rival was, he decided, half asleep on his feet, to have a quick nap. 'Take your time!' he said. 'I'll have forty winks and catch up with you in a minute.'_

_The hare woke with a start from a fitful sleep and gazed round, looking for the tortoise. But the creature was only a short distance away, having barely covered a third of the course. Breathing a sigh of relief, the hare decided he might as well have breakfast too, and off he went to munch some cabbages he had noticed in a nearby field. But the heavy meal and the hot sun made his eyelids droop. With a careless glance at the tortoise, now halfway along the course, he decided to have another snooze before flashing past the winning post. And smiling at the thought of the look on the tortoise's face when it saw the hare speed by, he fell fast asleep and was soon snoring happily. The sun started to sink, below the horizon, and the tortoise, who had been plodding towards the winning post since morning, was scarcely a yard from the finish. At that very point, the hare woke with a jolt. He could see the tortoise a speck in the distance and away he dashed. He leapt and bounded at a great rate, his tongue lolling, and gasping for breath. Just a little more and he'd be first at the finish. But the hare's last leap was just too late, for the tortoise had beaten him to the winning post. Poor hare! Tired and in disgrace, he slumped down beside the tortoise who was silently smiling at him._

'_Slowly does it every time!' he said."_

_As soon as Elladan was done reciting the story, Faenel quickly leafed through the book again, wanting to hear another story. Again, Elladan laughed, but said nothing as he let her._

_- Flashback End -_

At the moment she was sitting in her seat, drawing some doodles on some parchment that she had been given. It had been from an elf by the name of Erestor, who, apparently, was the top scholar in Imladris – according to Elladan, only Elrond's and Glorfindel's wisdom and knowledge exceeded Erestor's. He, too, had had extremely dark hair: it made Faenel wonder that while light hair wasn't unheard of, maybe it was a rarity? Like when a human would be born with red hair (she had only seen two of those). Another thing that had surprised him about Erestor, was that he wasn't as fair as the other elves. Sure, he was still leagues beyond any beauty that even the most fairest human could attain, but compared to other of the Eldar, he was rather… dull. Faenel wasn't judging or anything, she just found it curious – she would most likely find a lot of thing curious, as she could still count how many elves she had seen in her life on her hands. Anyway, Erestor had come early that morning with some parchment and telling her that Elladan wouldn't be able to get there until after lunch. She had frozen up right away when he had entered (without even knocking), but had given him a shaky nod. He had left as soon as he put the stack of paper and some drawing tools down on her table.

Faenel had never been good at drawing, she would admit. Her father, however, he had been a master of it – an artist. He would many times draw exceptional sceneries on their journeys between villages, and then sell them in said villages. He even made a fair amount of money on drawing portraits for a fair price – something many of the villages hadn't had access to, ever. She was rather jealous of that talent – she had tried to practice and practice, but she never got much better than being able to draw shapes that vaguely resembled what she tried to draw. It especially bothered her now, when she wanted to draw something nice for her new hero (yeah, she thought of him that way) and best friend, but could not get anything right. Right now, the parchment just showed a black-haired male humanoid figure, with a child humanoid figure with white hair, them holding hands and smiling.

She wouldn't lie and tell she wasn't wondering where Elladan could be. She had gotten incredibly used to him getting there around ten or eleven in the morning, and then leave shortly after supper (at which point she would be extremely tired – she was, after all, still recovering. But she couldn't feel hurt about it; even as much as she liked Elladan, this was most likely something he was told to do. He was told to take care of the poor, lonely, elfling whose parents had been killed by orcs. Oh, and watch out and find out about her Gift (which she had kept tightly under wraps, after the first day where Arwen had seen her freeze one of the glassless windows). Oh yes; she had had those thoughts. But, in the end, she had chosen not to dwell on them too much; she felt good when she was with the ellon, and he didn't seem to mind.

At the moment that she decided that the drawing was as good as it was going to get, a knocking sound emanated from the door. From previous days, Faenel knew who would enter through the door, just by the rhythm of the knocking. Because of that, she had already risen from her chair, her drawing in hand, and was one third of the way towards the door when Elladan entered (hey, it was an extremely large room). However, she faltered slightly when a second person entered after him, relaxing slightly when she saw it was Elladan's carbon copy, Elrohir. Faenel was nowhere near as comfortable with Elrohir as she was with Elladan, but because of how familiar he looked, she wasn't as worried around him. The same could be said about Arwen to an extent – that said, Elladan was still the person Faenel was most comfortable with, and who she would open up to most.

"Good morning, pen tithen," Elladan greeted her.

"Don't you mean afternoon?" Elrohir asked behind him with a grin. "The sun is already past its zenith," he said to his older brother, jerking his thumb towards the windows. Elladan rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, good afternoon, then. But you still know what I mean, don't you?" The last part was aimed towards her. She smiled brightly – something she had only managed to done, truly, the day before (as he had been when she had brightened up when she wanted to hear a story, Elladan had become stunned for a fraction of a second), and nodded as response to Elladan's question. He then noticed that she clutching a piece of parchment to her chest. He raised an eyebrow, "Pen tithen, what do you got there?" Faenel blushed, and suddenly felt very shy. Looking down at her feet, she handed him the drawing, looking anywhere but on him and his twin.

"It looks like you've gotten an admirer, 'Dan," Elrohir's voice sounded teasing. There sounded a thumping noise, followed by Elrohir exclaiming, "Hey! What was that for!? That hurt…"

"No it didn't," Elladan said offhandedly. Faenel could all but hear the roll of his eyes in his voice. She looked up when he kneeled down in front of her, smiling broadly. "Thank you; it's beautiful." Hesitating slightly, he hugged her lightly. She tensed a little bit; yeah, she had hugged Elladan before, but it had always been her initiating it. She relaxed after the first second, however, simply enjoying his warmth. And his smell. He smelled like… like birch in the spring. Of newly sprouted leaves. Leaning away from the hug, and standing up, Elladan looked at the drawing again, "I think I got a spot on my wall in my chamber, where I can stick this."

Elrohir coughed into his hands, and slapped lightly Elladan on his shoulder. As Elladan looked inquiringly up on his brother, the younger twin made a motion with his head towards Faenel, raising his eyebrows in the process. To Faenel, Elladan seemed to get the message – whatever the message was –, but hesitated as he looked at her. Putting on a smile that Faenel could see straight through, he raised the drawing to draw attention to it.

"Would you like to come with me to chose where I should stick this up?" Elladan asked. Faenel's smile slipped slightly from her face, and quickly Elladan added, "Not because you have to. We can stay here."

"Dan," Elrohir sighed. Then he kneeled down in front of Faenel, making sure not to get too close, "Pen tithen, you have been awake for a week now, and it's three days ago Ada said that you may move around. You need to move a bit if you want to get better… You do want to get better, don't you?" As he asked, Elladan's head snapped up to hers, and she could see the fear in his eyes that she would answer no. So she quickly nodded; yes, she did want to get better. Though, when she had gotten better, she didn't know what she would do.

"Listen," the elder twin said to her, her eyes focusing on his starlit ones. He smiled kindly at her, "We do not have to go far – we can just go to my chambers. If you want to go back after that, then we'll do that, but I really think we should walk out of this room today. Are you all right with that, pen tithen?" As he said that, he offered her hand to her.

Slowly Faenel nodded. She trusted Elladan. If he said they could go back after having been to his chambers, then they could go back after having been to his chambers. And for a first time out of her room, at least it wasn't somewhere where she would meet a ton of people, like the refectory. And, she would admit, she was kind of curious to see the kind of room Elladan would have. Actually, she was curious how any other person would decorate their room (remember, almost no contact with other people for the last twenty years). So she breathed in deeply, and accepted Elladan's hand. It caused the ellon to smile brightly – and that alone was really enough for Faenel. She liked his smile, as it made her happy as well.

"Good, then," Elladan said. The three of them walked to the door, and Elrohir was the first one out. Again Faenel hesitated slightly, but a small squeeze from Elladan and she stepped outside of her room. It was kind of… anticlimactic. Nothing special happened: no big revelation, no new view, and no horde of elves trying to talk to her. She smiled; this was not so bad.

Elrohir took a slight lead, as to show what way to go, as Elladan let Faenel lead him. It wasn't as if he was walking behind her, but he didn't steer her in any direction, and stopped up when she did, when she looked at something in the hallways – usually in awe. There were many beautiful objects in the halls, which were something you wouldn't see in any human village – at least Faenel hadn't in the villages she had lived in and visited. But here there were incredible paintings, some abstract some not, beautiful crystalline vases, glassless windows opening up to the unbelievable landscape around Imladris, and tapestries that spanned whole hallways. There was even one tapestry where she could recognize the story it displayed, about the fall of Ondolindë.

Adding together how slowly Faenel walked due to her current condition, and how she stopped up multiple times in each hallway (keep in mind that the hallways actually were a quite distance each), it took them a great deal of time to arrive in Elladan's chamber. If she thought the chambers she was recovering in was impressive, then Elladan's room was… out of this world. But, Faenel told herself, she had to remember that Elladan (and Elrohir) was basically princes of Imladris, them being the eldest sons of Elrond. In fact, Elladan would be the _crown_-prince of Imladris. Faenel stumbled at that realization, making the two ellyn worry that they had pushed her too far. They didn't have to, however, as she quickly caught her balance again and continued – this brought what Faenel thought was a proud smile to Elladan's face.

Like the room Faenel was recovering in, one of the walls of Elladan's chambers opened up to the outside in form of glassless windows. However, in addition to that, there were also two doors, made of the same liquid silver-like material the outside of Imladris seemed to be built of, which opened up to a balcony that seemed all too large to be just for this room. The room itself gave off a warm and kind atmosphere much like the ellon that inhabited it. It was, of course, in the same architecture as what she had seen of Imladris, with the long arches and the lines that formed abstract figures. Though, unlike her room and the halls they had been walking, where the walls where painted in different colors according to the figures and forms there were on the wall, Elladan's chambers were painted in blue. The color still varied in shade where the different figures were, but it gave the room a personal touch instead of just being one more room.

Faenel was surprised that there weren't more furniture in the room, when keeping in mind his position: it only made the large room seem that much more immense. There was a large bed (and Faenel meant _large_: Elladan would most likely be lay in whatever angle he wanted to, and still not having to care if a part of him would drape over the side of the bed) which head stood against one of the walls. Beside the bed stood a medium sized bedside table, with a few funny trinkets on, trinkets which Faenel couldn't identify. The largest furniture in the room was a wardrobe, which doors stood half open, pants and tunics laying haphazardly over the doors and around the floor. The last two pieces of furniture were a dresser with a mirror, and between the door they had entered by and one of the corners, three shelves were attached to the wall, where there again were trinkets and such on.

The walls weren't bare like the room she was residing in; there were to paintings – or rather, portraits – hung up in different places: one was of him and Elrohir standing side by side in formal wear (while Faenel might be able to tell them apart in real life, she had no chance of it in a painting like that), and the other were of him, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, and a beautiful elleth, whom Faenel guessed were their mother. On the other side of the door than the shelves hung a bow and a quiver, and two slim swords, all of which were ready to be taken off at a moment's notice if they were needed.

Apart from the door to the hallway and the door to the balcony, there were two other doors in the room: one was closed, and one opened up to another room in itself. Faenel walked over to that door, and looked inside. She frowned when it had a bed as well, and the walls there were varying shades of green. It wasn't as if she didn't think a _crown_-prince couldn't have two rooms, but why two beds?

"That's my room," Elrohir said, most likely having seen the confusion in her eyes. "This has been our rooms ever since we moved out of the nursery, about three hundred years ago." That explained it to Faenel. And the door inside Elrohir's room, which opened up to the balcony, meant that they most likely shared that.

"Pen tithen, where do you think I should stick this?" Elladan asked motioning with the hand his clutched the drawing in, as he himself was looking over his walls. "There is room enough, as you can see."

Faenel walked around the room for a few minutes trying to decide, and in the process also examining some of Elladan's weird trinkets. Most of them was just for decoration, she discovered, but there were a few which would jump around for a few seconds if you turned a knob. At the end of the third minute, Faenel had decided, and pointed at a part of the wall that was bare, between the bed and the wall that held the glassless windows.

"Ah, I have been wanting to put something up there: Perfect choice. Don't you think, 'Ro?" Elladan said, while picking up something sticky from one of the shelves and putting it on the backside of the drawing.

"I would say so," Elrohir grinned. "Perhaps she could make a drawing for me as well? I have more than a few spots bare in my room." That was true enough, from what Faenel had seen. Whereas Elladan's walls were filled by the two large paintings, Elrohir's walls only had the same kind of weapons next to the door. So she nodded with a bright smile, seemingly surprising the younger twin. "Great!"

After sticking the picture to the wall, the three of them walked around the halls for a little while more, Faenel again stopping to look at all the exquisite objects. It hadn't been long before a maid came towards them, telling that Glorfindel had been asking for Elrohir – all the while Faenel had squeezed Elladan's hand tight, as she buried her face in his back, using him as a kind of shield between herself and the maid. Elrohir had walked with the maid after bidding them goodbye (Faenel managed to shoot him a small smile), leaving just Elladan and Faenel alone. They had continued their exploring, until Faenel actually had hard time keeping her eyes open.

"I think we can call this a success," Elladan laughed as he picked her up, walking back to her room. She was way too tried to eat, and he seemed to know it. She smiled tiredly at him. "If you would like, I rather want to show you my two favorite places in Imladris tomorrow. While the second place there most likely will be a few people, only very few individuals knows of the first place. What do you say?" Faenel only had to think for a second before nodding to that. She had had a lot of fun today, exploring just a extremely small part of Imladris. So she wasn't disappointed when Elladan put her down in her bed, making sure her duvet was comfortably around her: today had been a good day.

"Good night, pen tithen," Elladan smiled at her, and started walking towards the doors.

"Faenel," she heard her voice say softly. It was weak from not having been used for so long, but Elladan's elf ears heard it. He froze, and then spun around to look at her.

"What?"

"My name is Faenel," she told him, and closer her eyes, snuggling into the bed.

"Well, then good night, Faenel," his warm voice sounded.

* * *

**Aman – Blessed Realm – The continent whereon Valinor is, home of the Valar**

**Ñoldor - those with knowledge (Quenya)**

**Ondolindë - The Rock of the Music of the Water – Gondolin**

**Moroch – môr (black) + roch (horse) – Black Horse**

**Eliasell – To Bless/Help Out (Elia); Maiden, Girl, or Daughter (sell)**

**Author's Notes:** Well, I think I made up for the slightly short chapter two. This chapter numbered on 6188 words, more than a thousand more than I had aimed for. Regardless of the word count, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter.

Before any of you ask/point out; I haven't forgotten about Celebrían. Next chapter will be from Elladan's point of view, and we will hear abit more of the going-ons of Imladris, and not just what an elfling who has only just left her room has observed.

As always, review or PM me if you have any questions or remarks. I try to get back to each and every one of them, so if you want an answer, remember to activate your private message feature thingy.

Tempest Out


	5. Do You Want To Build A Snowman?

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the lateness of this update, but I was prevented from writing this chapter because of school. A major mathematics assignment was thrown in my head (I have the bruises to prove it), and I've been working my ass off to finish it. Well, now it's finished, and I've been working on this story :).

**Chapter Four:** Do You Want To Build A Snowman?

"_You will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."_

_~ Anne Lamott_

* * *

Cracking sounded from Elladan's back as he stretched in his chair. Hearing the noise, his brother, sister, and father all glanced over at him with sympathy, but he waved them off with a reassuring smile. They were all sitting in Elrond's study, having some semi-quality time together, as it had been quite a while since they'd had that. Normally it would be Celebrían who would pluck them out of their daily lives and remind them to spend time together, but as she was in Lothlórien at the moment with her own parents, it slowly slipped their minds. In fact, it had been a coincidence that they actually got together this morning: Arwen had already been sitting in Elrond's study as he had called for Elladan, and Elrohir being who he was, had followed his twin. And now they had sat and talked about everyday thing, just enjoying each other's company. Three of the elves still shot the eldest twin some looks, specifically when he would move in a certain way, and his body would groan under the strain. Each time he would wave their looks off, because it was really nothing. It had merely been bad luck, that the night that he had decided to get some sleep, Faenel had woken up with a bad nightmare. A servant had come knocking on his door with an apologetic look on his face, telling that no one had been able to calm her down. Elladan, of course, hadn't hesitated a second, and had walked through the halls in his nightclothes, and had found Faenel shaking like an aspen leaf on top of her bed, her eyes shooting around the dark room in search for danger. He had held her hand as he sat in a chair beside her bed, until she fell asleep. Then he had fallen asleep – in the chair. As he said; it had merely been bad luck.

It wasn't because he was _that_ tired, just that he ached a bit from sleeping in an awkward position. It was well known that elves didn't need as much sleep as men and dwarves did – while there weren't any numbers on the difference (not as far as Elladan knew), as far as he knew elves only needed about a sixth or seventh of what men needed. In addition to that, elves didn't need a full night's sleep, and could simply spread the snoozing out over several days or nights. Elladan wasn't a big fan of the latter, and usually just went to sleep a whole night when he felt his body tell him it was time. Of course, elflings and injured needed more sleep, and elflings even tended to sleep as much, if not sometimes more, than mortals did (though, they still slept less than mortal children).

Faenel didn't have nightmares often, but when she did, they were bad. She had been there for five weeks now, and had only had nightmare three of the nights – three nights where she hadn't slept much, and all of which Elladan had sat beside her, rousing her when he heard the elflings breathing accelerate. Now, it might be slightly erroneous of him, but Elladan was quite pleased that he was the one she trusted to keep her nightmares away. Elladan also theorized that said nightmares were only made worse by her restraining her Gift – which they, by the way, still hadn't seen after the incident Arwen saw. No ice or snow had appeared around her (which they were rather sure what her Gift revolved around), but when she was upset, Elladan could feel the temperature drop in the area around her, and Faenel would wrap her arms around herself and take deep breaths.

Elladan of course still wished for the elfling he was taking care of, to start trusting other people more, more than he wished for anything else. Still, it was giving him a boost to his ego, that she sought _him_ out. Faenel, while not being scared of strangers anymore, was still very shy of people she didn't know. Elladan was still the only one she spoke to, but she had begun to be more at ease around Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, and even Glorfindel (who, Faenel had told, she had first been interested in, because he was one of the only other elves she knew who had light hair). Only a few days ago, Arwen had done a major breakthrough, when Faenel had sought her out to do her hair (which Arwen had offered to do many times). Elladan had done it once or twice, but with how horrendous job he had done (which Faenel had _laughed_ at, much to his own joy), she had stopped asking him. Arwen was understandably thrilled, as she was, amusingly enough, quite jealous of the relationship Elladan had with Faenel, since she's been hoping to get a younger sister for some time.

Faenel hadn't progressed so far as to be able to eat in the refectory: Not with how many people there were in there, and how many of them would be looking interested at her, curious at who Lord Elrond and his children were taking care of. Because of that, she was still eating in her own room, which Elladan most days would join her in. It was kind of an unspoken rule that only Elladan would be in her room at that time, as she usually would chat about either what she wanted to do for the day, if it was morning, or what she enjoyed about the day, if it was evening. She wasn't a chatty elfling – and Elladan didn't know if she would ever be –, but she was far from quiet when only around Elladan.

While she hadn't walked into the refectory more than once (which she quite quickly ran out of again), Faenel looked to be enjoying being down at the archery range and training field. She would sit with crossed legs at one of the benches, and simply look over Glorfindel's elves train. The commander had been slightly hesitant to allow it when Elladan had approach with Faenel one day, but as the white-haired elfling had proved to not disturb his training sessions, he hadn't commented further. Elladan wasn't sure what about the Range and the Fields that she liked – maybe it was the structured atmosphere, or maybe it was that she could be around other elves without them trying to approach her –, but he was just happy that she had a place where she could relax and be safe. The irony didn't escape him, as the training field and archery range was most likely the least safe place for an elfling in Imladris (which, then again, was still quite safe).

"Elladan," his father's voice broke him out of his thoughts. Elladan blinked a few times and looked up at his father, quite aware of his twin's laughter beside him. He glared halfheartedly at him, but his glare died down as he saw his father's equally amused expression. "Glad you have you back with us."

"Sorry, Ada," Elladan apologized sheepishly. "I should've paid attention."

"It's understandable, under the circumstances," Elrond said with a smile. "How is Faenel, by the way? Did she get some sleep last night?"

"Some," Elladan answered with a frown. "Though, not nearly enough as someone in her position should be getting. She was still sleeping when I left."

"What about you?" Arwen asked concerned, sitting in the seat their mother usually occupied. "Wasn't you planning on getting some sleep yourself, last night?"

"I got enough," the ellon answered. "I can go one more day without, and then I'll just sleep tonight. Besides, it's better that I go a night without sleep than that Faenel does."

"Ada, is she getting better?" Elrohir asked from his seat beside his twin. "I know that she is out of her room every day, but she is still sleeping an awful lot." The undertone of worry was clear to everyone in the room. It was quite amazing how the young elfling had wormed her way into their hearts, and all without speaking or interacting much with them (at least in the first few weeks).

"As long as she doesn't begin to sleep more than she already does, and that she keep up her jaunts around Imladris during the day, I wouldn't be worried," Elrond said, calming his children in the process. "Faenel has been through a lot, and we still don't know how much. She still hasn't talked about before we found her, has she? Nor about her Gift?"

"No," Elladan shook his head. "She hasn't."

"I thought so," Elrond sighed. "From what I've seen, she went at least a week without food, water, or sleep. In addition to that, she laid in freezing cold, for so long that even full-blooded elves would begin to be affected. I will give that depending on how her Gift works, that may or may not have affected her, but regardless… She will need time to fully recover. I wouldn't be surprised if she will still hasn't recovered completely in a year's time. She _will_ recover, but it will take time." The three young elves in the room nodded in acceptance and relief at that explanation. Time was something elves had more than enough of, so as long as Faenel would eventually recover, they would be patient. As that was determined, a comfortable silence settled in the Elrond's study.

"Has Nana sent any letters from Lórien?" Arwen asked suddenly.

"Not since the scout after last arrived from Caras Galadhon," Elrond chuckled. He turned to his daughter, "Undómiel, you do not have to worry; your Celebrían, Galadriel, and Celeborn will all make it here in time for your Centennial Celebration."

"Do you still worry about that?" Elrohir asked with a soft, slightly disbelieving, smile. "Nethig, Nana would never miss something as important as that – Especially not when it's her own beautiful daughter, the second coming of Lúthien." Even as his sentence started as reassuring, it had ended in a clear teasing tone. It was understandable, Elladan thought, as their mother undeniably doted her daughter, just like their father did.

Arwen blushed, "I know it's irrational…"

"You have nothing to worry about," Elladan soothed, also with a slight laugh. "They'll be here: you'll see."

"And Haldir will be here, as well. I'm sure you're looking forward to seeing him, too," Elrohir jibed in with a mischievous grin. Elladan began to snicker at the comment right away, as Arwen went bright red and looked everywhere else but at her family. "I'm not hearing you denying anything," Elrohir sang. "Arwen and Haldir, sitting in a tree-"

"-K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Elladan continued where his brother left off.

"First comes love, then comes-"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Arwen cut her brothers off embarrassed out through her teeth. That just resulted in the twins laughing even harder, at the expense of their sister.

"Boys," Elrond said in a slight disapproving tone, even as amusement twinkled in his eyes. The two ellyn tried to reign in their laughter. "Don't tease your sister so much."

"Sorry," the two said, without really meaning it – and everyone in the room knew that. Arwen huffed.

"You should wait till after her Celebration. There is going to be so much more material to tease her with," Elrond finished in a matter of fact tone, as he wrote a report.

There was a disbelieving silence, and then:

"Ada!" Arwen cried out in indignity.

"That sounded like approval to me," Elladan said with a huge grin on his face. "Did that sound like approval to you, 'Ro?"

"It sure did, 'Dan," the younger twin grinned. "And we mustn't forget how much we can tease dear Haldir during his stay here."

"You wouldn't dare," Arwen cried out.

"Wouldn't we, Nethig? Wouldn't we?" Elrohir grinned.

"You would," the youngest of Elrond's children groaned, palming her face at the realization. She turned to their father, starting to let the waterworks go, "Ada…"

"If he can't take a little teasing, then he's not good enough for you," Elrond said decisively. The twins laughed harder, and Arwen huffed once again, blushing all the while.

* * *

"Can we go to the lake today?" Faenel asked Elladan a couple of hours late. They were sitting at the table in her room eating breakfast – even though it was more afternoon than it was morning. This was due to Faenel only haven awoken during the previous hour. A maid had knocked on Elrond's study, and Elladan again hadn't hesitated with getting up from his chair (and not without teasing from _both_ of Elrohir and Arwen). He had quickly swung by the kitchens to get the white-haired elflings breakfast, before finally reaching said elflings room. Faenel hadn't said much this morning, and Elladan easily saw that she was still quite drained from the nightmare. This caused him to frown lightly: while it was important for Faenel to keep up her walks around Imladris, it was equally important that she didn't strain herself. Faenel must've read what he thought in his face, because she turned her big, ice-blue eyes at him, "Please, 'Dan."

Elladan's eyes widened marginally at the use of his nickname. This was the first time she had called him 'Dan, instead of the entirety of his name. Put that together with the puppy eyes that she was shooting him, which he dared said even trumped Arwen's puppy eyes (if you could believe that), there was no way he could deny her. He had a hard time denying her anything already – which was another thing his siblings, especially Elrohir, teased him about (goodheartedly, naturally) –, so he sighed with a small smile. Faenel cut off the puppy eyes act right away, and shot him a dazzling smile, "Thanks, 'Dan!"

"You're going to be the death of me, Pen Tithen," Elladan said teasingly. However, he knew he had said the wrong thing the moment the words left his mouth, which was only proven completely as Faenel flinched violently, and dropped the piece of egg she was about to put in her mouth. "Sorry, Faenel. I wasn't thinking."

"I-it's all right," Faenel answered shakily, Elladan's comment having put a damper on her cheerful mood. Elladan grimaced at his blunder, as he watched her pick up her fork again, and forced herself to finish her plate. Normally Elladan would be all for letting a child stop eating when they didn't want to eat, but he knew that Faenel needed the extra nutrition that the cook was putting in her meal. As he watched her eat, he continued to beat himself up mentally, due to his blunder. Here Faenel had sat, relatively cheerful and looking forward to the day _despite_ her nightmare, and he had to go and open his big mouth like that. Elladan didn't know if the elf in front of him blamed herself for her parents death, but regardless if she did, she always fell quiet if anything at all reminded her of her parents or their death. That was why telling her that she was going to be the death of him, wasn't the smartest thing to do. Now he could just hope that he hadn't ruined her whole day – that had happened before.

He wasn't perfect, and he made mistakes. It was still a hit and miss when it came to being overly sensitive and considerate, as he had to be around Faenel. This was also part of the reason why Elrohir wasn't spending more time with Faenel, as the younger twin had blundered quite a few times, which in the end caused Elladan to tell Elrohir's head off in their chambers. That night they had slept with closed doors. They had made up the next day, and Elladan had apologized while admitting that he wasn't quite himself these days: he was just very worried and very protective of Faenel, and that even he couldn't explain that. Elrohir had also apologized, admitting that he should be more careful when he was around her. Hey: just because they were twins, even twins as close as they were, didn't mean that they didn't have problems from time to time.

"'Dan?" Faenel's voice sounded, causing Elladan to look up at her. She was finished eating, and was looking slightly worried at him. "What is going to happen after I get well?"

Elladan frowned confused. "What do you mean?"

"When I'm well again, where am I going to go? Are you going to send me to Lothlórien?"

"Why Lórien?"

"It's where I was born," she answered. On one hand Elladan was thrilled that she had revealed something about her past, but on the other hand, he didn't like the way questions that had caused her to reveal said information. As Faenel had asked the questions, Elladan could hear the underlying fear in her voice. For whatever reason, she was worried about going to Lothlórien – or worried about leaving Imladris.

"Well," Elladan started as he breathed in deeply. He moved his chair over beside her, seeing as she needed to be closer to someone. He looked her straight in the eyes, "It's really up to you. If the Golden Woods are your birthplace, I'm sure the Lady of the Wood will find a place for you to stay. Even Greenwood and Lindon will allow you to stay with them; they would be thrilled to have another elfling stay with them. And…"

"And?" Faenel bit her lower lip lightly – something Elladan had noticed she did when she was nervous.

He smiled at her warmly. "And I know for a fact that Ada will let you stay here in Imladris with us."

"Really?" she asked, still sounding rather uncertain.

"Of course," Elladan laughed heartfelt, and hugged her. Kneeling in front of her, he smiled broadly at her, "Everyone here loves you. You could get away with anything. You were even allowed to sit in and watch as Glorfindel train the warriors: you know, 'Ro and I tried to do that when we were younger, and we weren't allowed." At the disbelieving look in her eyes, and her slightly agape mouth, he laughed again and nodded. "Yep, it's true. And I also know that Ada has grown quite attached to you, and so has Arwen and Elrohir: they ask each and every day how you are. They care very much about you."

"If I stayed here, would I still see you and Arwen and 'Ro?" She asked. Again Elladan was surprised; not only did she include him, but also Arwen and Elrohir (who she also called by his nickname). He looked inquiringly at her. "Even if another family will take care of me, will you still come and visit?"

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked, truly confused. "Of course you would see me. My family would take care of you. Don't you want that?" Had he really just jumped to that assumption?

"But… You're _you_," she exclaimed. "Why would you want to take in an orphan elfling? You already have a whole family, and… you're _you_: you are like the royal family of Imladris."

"Faenel," Elladan smiled. "If you would like, my family would be more than honored to take you in. As I said, we all care very much about you. And even if you don't want to be taken in by our family, but still stay in Imladris, I would still come and visit you whenever I can. Even if you chose to stay in Lórien or Greenwood or Lindon, I would still try come and visit you whenever I have the time."

"But why do you care?" Faenel asked in a low voice. "Aren't you only spending time with me so I can get better? Hasn't Lord Elrond told you to?"

"He has told me to take care of you," Elladan agreed with her, and quickly continued at the sight of the devastated expression on her face. "But he told me to do that, because I asked if it was all right. It was me who asked if I could be excused from my other responsibilities, so I could make sure you got better. And as to why I care about you? You are a sweet and fun elfling, and I love it when you smile and laugh. Basically, you are _good_." He hugged her again, and then looked into her blue eyes, "Do you want to stay in Imladris? Do you want to stay with my family?"

Faenel didn't answer verbally: instead she nodded frantically, as tears of joy started to spill from her eyes – and then she jumped into Elladan's arms. After a few minutes of that, Faenel pulled back with a bright white smile on her face – the brightest and happiest Elladan had seen her give so far.

"Can we go to the lake now?" Faenel asked. "I want to show you something."

Elladan blinked. "Sure, we can go," he said, curious to what she was going to show me. "Do you want to bring a book again, so we can read?"

"No," Faenel shook her head. She jumped down from Elladan's lap, tugged on his arm to make him stand, and began pushing him out of her room. "Get out so I can get dressed," she giggled. Elladan smiled at mood – it seemed like his earlier blunder had been all but forgotten now.

"All right, all right, I'm going," Elladan laughed. A maid walked by as he was pushed into the hallway, and for a second he thought Faenel would freeze up. Only she didn't: she simply closed the door, and Elladan could hear her small feet run across her floor, towards her closet. He couldn't help but smile broadly, and the maid that walked by shared in his joy: it seemed like Faenel was finally starting to get out of her shell.

It was only two minutes later that the door opened again, and Faenel stood in a white summer dress and sandals. The eldest son of Elrond couldn't help but think that she looked so much prettier when she smiled; her eyes shone like eyes, and her white hair would radiate. It was really no wonder that her name meant Radiant White Star.

"Come on, 'Dan," Faenel said eagerly. "Let's go!" She tugged him excitedly in the right direction – after all, it wasn't the first time they had gone there… far from it. Elladan had showed him the small garden with the medium-sized pond, which she called the lake, the day after Faenel had first left her room. The white-haired elfling had fallen in love with it, just as all Elrond's children had when their mother had showed it to them. It was the garden where Elrond and Celebrían had started their courtship, and had spent many hours there talking. It was where Elrond had asked for Celebrían's hand. And now it was where Faenel had slowly but surely recovered from her trauma. Elladan smiled as they walked into view of the lake: there had to be some magic about this place.

"What was it you wanted to show me?" Elladan asked as they stood at the edge of the pond. Faenel avoided looking at him, making him frown. "Faenel?"

"There is no one else around, is there?" Faenel asked quietly.

"Not as far as I know."

"Okay, do you promise not to tell anyone what I'll show you?" Faenel asked, looking at Elladan imploringly.

"Sure," Elladan answered without hesitation.

"Swear it," Faenel insisted, all the while she looked very nervous. Extending her right hand with an outstretched pinky finger, she said, "Pinky-swear it."

"Pinky swear?" Elladan asked confused. He had never heard of such a thing.

"It was something the other children in the human villages we lived in did," Faenel explained, for the second time that day revealing information about her past. "When you pinky swear you can't break it." Elladan smiled, as that would be just the kind of thing children – of the Eldar and men – would do. So he extended his right hand with an outstretched pinky finger

"So how do I swear?" he asked, as he didn't know how this sort of thing worked.

"You wrap your finger around the others, like this," Faenel said and did it. "And then you pull apart." With that, she pulled her finger back, giving the vision of something breaking. Elladan doubted she saw it as anything but a funny way of swearing, but it was clear that the pinky fingers breaking their hold symbolized the relationship between the two people swearing breaking, if the oath itself should be broken.

"So… what did you want to show me?" Elladan asked again, feeling very curious now.

Faenel bit her lip, "This…"

Elladan looked with first curious and then wide eyes, as Faenel clasped her hand together, and light began to emit from between her fingers. He gasped as she opened her hands and a snowball was in her hand. Without further ado, she threw it up in the air, where it exploded into thousands of snowflakes which slowly fell to the earth. Faenel wasn't done showing what she could do, however; stepping lightly on the surface of the pond, it started to freeze over. Ten seconds later, Elladan and Faenel stood in a snow landscape, compared to the summer landscape they had stood in moments before.

Biting her lip in nervousness, she looked uncertain up at Elladan. Said twin didn't say anything right away, simply looking over what Faenel had done. When he finally looked at the elfling and saw how nerve-wracking she looked, he smiled broadly trying to make her more at ease.

"Pen Tithen, this is amazing," he told her. And he meant it. "Is this the Gift you have been hiding?" she nodded carefully, and Elladan smiled again. "You know, Ada also has a gift."

Her eyes widened, "He does?"

"Yes, though his is much more subtle," Elladan nodded. "He has the Gift of Foresight. And the Lady of Light has the Gift of Mind."

"I'm… not alone?" Faenel asked in wonder, as she looked down on her own hands. She looked up at Elladan, "There are others?"

"There aren't many, but there are a few," Elladan nodded. The he stood up, "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm really looking forward to playing. Do you want to skate?"

The whole of Faenel's face lit up, and quickly she tugged Elladan out onto the ice. Elladan looked in delight as Faenel laughed as she skated around as if she had done it in years – which she most likely had. Elladan, however, fell more than a few times. But each and every time, Faenel helped him get up. The rest of the afternoon was spend playing in the snow, building a snowman, having a snowball fight. It was really no wonder that Faenel was good at all those things.

That evening, it was an elfling with rose-colored cheeks who fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

* * *

**Iavas: **The autumn 'month' in the elven calendar. It lasts 54 days.

**Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees:** Chief city of Lórien.

**Lúthien:** Lúthien, also known as Tinúviel, was an Elf Maiden of Doriath, the wife of Beren Erchamion, and the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar that has ever lived. Her love of the man Beren, for which she was prepared to risk everything, even death itself, was legendary and lamented forever in song and story. She and Beren braved Morgoth's horrors, eventually winning the Silmaril and the respect of Thingol. Though their actions later resulted in both their deaths, their deeds won them the pity of Mandos and a second life in Middle-earth

**Lady of Light; Lady of the Wood:** Titles of Galdriel

**Author's Notes:** And that is chapter four done. Now, there are some parts I really like, and other parts I'm not too thrilled about. But I guess it's just that way sometimes.

I will try to get the next chapter up within a few days, as I don't have a lot of school work left. I'm not sure if I want the next chapter to be the one where Legolas makes an appearance, or the chapter after that. If Legolas doesn't appear in the next chapter, then the chapter will used explioring Faenel's relationship with Arwen, Elrohir, Elrond, and Glorfindel.

Tempest Out


	6. Letting Go

**Chapter Five:** Letting Go

"_I guess it's going to have to hurt, I guess I'm going to have to cry, and let go of some things I've loved to get to the other side. I guess it's going to break me down, Like falling when you try to fly; sad but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life starts with goodbye"_

_~ Carrie Underwood_

* * *

Lying the white carnation flower in front of the tomb stone, Faenel stepped and took a shaky breath. She felt a hand touch and squeeze her shoulder, and then stay there. She knew it was Elladan, even with the rest of his family, and Glorfindel, being there. She always knew when it was Elladan: he was the one person she trusted most in this world. Faenel didn't doubt that she wouldn't be able to do this, if she didn't know he was there. Not if she couldn't feel his hand on her shoulder, or his body heat mere centimeters behind her. He was her pillar, her support.

In front of her, now with a delicate flower in front of it, stood a beautiful tomb stone in marble. It was both simple yet intricate at the same time: it stood little over a meter tall, with the names of her parents engraved onto it. The tomb's design told the story of the dúnedhil buried below. It was rare for elves to be buried, as it was rare for elves to die, but it happened, and thus traditions had emerged. The tomb stone in front of her had the large crest of Ondolindë to signify both of her parents' place of birth, and right beside the crest were the emblem for each of their houses; the house of White Wing for her mother, which crest was a Swan wing upon a field normally colored in blue, and the house of Golden Flower for her father, which crest was a Golden flower upon field usually colored in green. Then there was a carving of a mallorn tree leaf, to signify their stay in Lothlórien. And finally there was a carving of a snowflake to signify her.

It was now a year since Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel had found her. Over a year since she arrived in Imladris. And, still, it had only been three months since she had been able to step into the glade in which her parents were buried. Since then, she had only been there twice more: briefly on her birthday, and then now, on the anniversary of their deaths. Of course, Faenel didn't actually know the exact date that they died, and neither did Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, or Glorfindel. She didn't know how long she had laid out there in the snow, only that it had been for a while. But it was a year, to the day, since Elladan had found her. A year since she had seen her parents faces, even if they had been frozen and peaceful.

It was only two minutes she could bare to stand there in front of her parents' grave. It was longer than the previous times, but not by much. Perhaps someday, she would be able to stay there for long enough, to have an actual conversation. Yeah, she knew that they weren't there, but in the Halls of Mandos in Valinor, and she also knew that elves didn't do it – talking to the tombstones that is. But in her time in human villages, she had seen many funerals (albeit from a distance), and had seen people at the graves of their loved ones talking. She had asked her nana why they did it: Faenel had learned that elves' fae went to the Halls of Waiting, and that humans' fae went _beyond_ – whatever that meant. Her nana had said that it was to feel closer to the dead, and that it was just as much for those left behind as for those who left.

"Pen tithen, are you okay?" Elladan asked.

Faenel gave a strained smile, "As well as I can be." They all seemed to accept that answer, giving her their own sad smiles. "I'd like to be alone for a little while, if that is all right."

"Of course," Elrond nodded. Faenel looked up and saw that Elrond's children looked conflicted at that, especially Elladan. So she hugged him. Elladan was surprised at first, but quickly returned the hug.

"I am okay, 'Dan," Faenel told her brother, as she broke free from the hug. "Really. I just feel like I need to be by myself for a few hours."

Elladan sighed. "All right. But if you need me, I'll be at the archery range. I'm here for you."

"We're all here for you, Faenel," Arwen smiled and went to hug her.

Faenel smiled, just a bit brighter. "I know. Thank you."

And with that, they let her walk away. She didn't really have any particular destination in mind – only that it was away from that glade. She wandered the halls of Imladris, for once actually not enjoying the aesthetics. Eventually she reached the lake where she had revealed her Gift to Elladan, and where she and _all_ of Elrond's children had played in the snow many times since. Apart from beside Elladan and her chambers, the lake was the place she felt most comfortable at. It was peaceful, it held good memories, and not many came to it due to the many twists and turns you had to take to get there. So she sat down at the shore, took off her shoes, and let her feet wash in the pleasantly cool waters. As she did when she started thinking, her right hand began to play with small streams of her magic, snow and frost waving their ways around her fingers and wrist.

Faenel thought back on the last years. She was getting close to being healed, but not quite there yet. Day by day, she would get a bit stronger, be able to walk a bit farther, and stay awake for a while longer. And it wasn't just physically she was healing, but mentally as well. While she was still shy, as was to be expected for someone having been as sheltered as she, she was slowly opening up to more people. There were relapses, of course, but overall she was getting better. Neither she, nor any of the people she had grown to care about, thought that she would ever be like a normal elfling, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But how could she be like a normal elfling, when she was anything but? She had a Gift, her parents were dead, and she hadn't grown up amongst elves. But she was okay with it. She was herself, and that was who those who she had grown to care about, cared about.

While Faenel still hadn't opened completely up to the Lord of Imladris, she felt more than comfortable around his children. Her days would be spend with Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. Some days they would play and read and draw, and others she would simply accompany them on whatever they would be doing – like sitting and watching the twins train with Glorfindel, or sit in the Healing Wards and watch how Arwen, and sometimes Elrond, would take care of elves that had gotten hurt because of one thing or another.

In the start she hadn't talked a whole lot, and honestly she still didn't. But it wasn't the same kind of silence she had about her, as when she had just arrived in Imladris. Back then, it had been a tortured silence, a silence that screamed for help. Now it was a comfortable silence. It had been a surprise for her, when one day she had woken up and realized, that she actually was starting to feel comfortable there. Even without her parents. Faenel still missed her parents so very terribly, but the people here – Elladan, Arwen, Elrond, and Glorfindel…. They had slowly begun to become her family, too. Now they were. They were the people she surrounded herself with, how she went on even without her parents.

No one could deny the bond that Elladan and Faenel had: Faenel looked up to the ellon as a hero who could do no wrong, and always sought him out when she had problems with something – even when it would've been easier to ask someone else for help –, and Elladan looked to her as a small miracle. It might look weird to some, how much time Elladan used on Faenel, but he couldn't care less: all the eldest twin of Elrond wanted, was for the elfling he had found on the brink of death to get well. And now that she was almost well, it wasn't as if he didn't spend time with others, because he did: he was spending time with Elrohir, with Arwen, with his father, with Glorfindel, and with some of the friends he had made under Glorfindel. Anyway, back to Faenel and Elladan: Their bond had only grown, and Faenel had started trusting her hero even more, when she had revealed her Gift to him, and he had kept his promise of not telling. But Faenel had quickly begun feeling bad that Elladan had to keep secrets from his family, and soon she revealed her Gift to Elrond, too – though, she simply created a snowball in front of him, instead of creating a whole winter wonderland.

Faenel had worried that perhaps everything would change now that they knew, but it didn't. The only thing that truly changed was that she didn't have to conceal a part of herself, and when she used her gift to create frost and snow (which she still only dared to do in front of Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond, and Glorfindel), they would stop up and look in wonder. It had been more than a few times that Elrond's children along with Faenel had played in the snow she had created.

As soon as Faenel had found out how funny Elrohir was, and that he really was harmless despite his blundering around, the youngest twin had quickly become trusted by Faenel. For weeks, if Faenel wasn't with Elladan, then she was with Elrohir. Elladan would always be her hero and favorite twin (though, of course she didn't say that to Elrohir's face), but Elrohir was someone Faenel quickly grew to love to be with – It helped a lot that the youngest twin would allow a lot more than Elrohir, and that he gave her a lot of sweets (which they agreed they wouldn't tell anyone about).

Arwen was also becoming very special to Faenel. While she love Elladan, he was still an ellon, and there was some things that only an elleth could understand. Like, taking the first step towards becoming _mature_, becoming a woman. Faenel knew what would happen, and that it could happen, but it was still frightening when the first cramps started, and she didn't know why. Elladan had been frantic – that is until Arwen came and explained what was happening. Faenel and Arwen could still laugh out loud at the extremely uncomfortable face Elladan had made when he finally got it. He had tried to stick around, trying to prove that he wasn't squeamish about it when he was. And as things tend to be resolved in situations like that, Faenel and Arwen made it sound like it was their wish for him not to be there, and not his. It had been the first real step towards Arwen and Faenel becoming close. After that their relationship had moved along faster: Faenel especially loved how beautiful Arwen could braid her hair.

Glorfindel had also proven to become rather protective of Faenel. He had been it ever since he had seen her in Elladan's arms out in that ice field – or so Elladan told her –, but it had increased drastically one day when they had talked. Faenel had asked, after having read about Glorfindel in a book, if he really was the Glorfindel of Ondolindë. He had replied yes, and she had offhandedly commented on her parents being from there. Glorfindel had gotten more interested, and had become stunned, when Faenel had told him that her father had been a member of the same house as Glorfindel had been head of (though Faenel didn't know that). While Glorfindel and her father might not have been biologically connected as a family, they had been by their house. In Glorfindel's eyes, Faenel was a long lost niece, or something like that, and had also taken it up on himself to protect her. By then, quite a few had taken that job.

Finally there was Elrond, the Lord of Imladris, the Lord of Glorfindel, and the father of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. Even after a year, Faenel wasn't completely comfortable around him. Now, she wasn't _un_comfortable anymore, but still… It would take time, she guessed. She couldn't explain _why_ it was she wasn't comfortable around the Lord of Imladris. After all, he was kind and sweet, and never rose his voice (which her own Ada could do once in a while), and he only wanted what was best for his children – and now also her. The day after the afternoon where Faenel had showed Elladan her Gift, Elrond had come talked to her about what Elladan had told her was offered to her. About where she could live. Elrond had said that it was true, and that if she wanted to, he would take her in. Faenel had accepted, of course… but she never thought she could think of Elrond as her Ada. She had an Ada, and a Nana, already. On second thought, that might be what made her not truly comfortable around Elrond: that if she got too close too close to him, it would seem like she was betraying her real Ada. It was stupid, she knew. Her real Ada would want her to embrace this life, so that she could live and be happy.

Faenel squinted as a beam of sunlight hit her face. Raising her hand to shield against the light, she saw the position of the sun, and realized how long she had sat there. With a heavy sigh, she got up, and started to trudge towards the refectory. It took some time to get there, so as she walked through the doors, it was mostly filled up. Her seat was empty, up beside Elladan and Arwen. It wasn't the same seat she had sat at the first time she had went to the refectory and actually eaten there. Back then it had been rather late, when many had already eaten, and Elladan had sat with her down the back, where not many would look. But now she sat up in front with the rest of her new family… it was still weird to think of them like that.

People were still looking at her, as she walked up to her seat. Faenel admitted that it still got to her slightly: it was unnerving how many looked at her, and how _intensely_. She wasn't a stranger to getting looks, as elves usually get those when they walk into a human village with a horse in tow. But the humans looked… it was different. These elves of Imladris, in addition to being curious about her, also looked at her as if she was sent by the Valar. After long talks with Arwen, Faenel understood it was because how high elves held elflings. At the moment there only were four elflings in Imladris, five including her – and that was with a population of neigh five thousand. She had met them, and, no, she didn't like them at all.

They were two ellith and three ellyn. The ellith names were Elhedril and Faerveren, and the ellyn names were Gorntôr, Heniadir, Ningannel. Having now met both elflings and human children, Faenel could say without a doubt that she preferred the human children, despite not being able to talk to them. The elflings of Imladris were cruel towards her. They were like a tight knit group that didn't want to let anyone else into their circle. Well, perhaps Ningannel wasn't that bad, but he didn't help her. The others went after her whenever they got a chance – thankfully not in a physical way. They just made fun of her weird quirks she had developed due to growing up with humans. She couldn't give an example, but it was how she walked slightly different than the others, how she came with analogies they didn't understand, things like that. Elladan had tried to help her, and so had Elrond, but they couldn't do much. In the end Faenel just kept away from the other elflings, and stuck with her new family. After all, they didn't mind her company.

As she sat down in her seat, she was thankful that none of them made a big deal out of it. They simply glanced at her, and if she made eye contact with them, smiled at her. And then they went back to eating. She started eating herself, not feeling much like talking. She listened to her new family banter, to Elrohir complaining about some elleth who didn't return his affections, to Elladan who bragged about his victory over a friend in an archery competition, and to Arwen who were fussing over the plans of her Centennial Celebration.

Faenel smiled to herself as she watched them. She was going to be just fine. Better yet – she was going to be happy.

* * *

**Dúnedhil – Noldor or Sindar elves**

**Ondolindë – Hidden Rock - Gondolin**

**Fae – Soul/Souls**

**Nana – Mom (informal)**

**Elhedril - Faithful Elf [female] (el-+sedril)**

**Faerveren - Joyous Spirit (faer+meren)**

**Gorntôr - Impetuous/Valor (gorn)**

**Heniadîr - To Understand (henia-)**

**Ningannel - Tears of a Harp (nîn+gannel)**

**Author's Notes:** I apologize for the long wait for this chapter, and the shortness of the chapter. For the former: I will try my utmost to not let a whole month go by before I update again. For the latter: it will happen from time to time that a chapter won't reach five thousand words, just like it happens that a chapter will exceed five thousand words. But I will make sure that the chapters which are under four thousand words will be kept really down.

This was the last chapter about Faenel being rescued, and trying to figure her place in Imladris out and all that. Next chapter we will have the start of Arwen's Centennial Celebration – for those who don't know, Centennial is another word for Century (I just thought it sounded good for such a celebration) –, at which Legolas will finally enter the scene! After the celebrations will be the first large time jump. And, yes, I know we already jumped a year in this chapter, but keeping in mind that by the time we reach the Quest for Erebor and the War of the Ring, Faenel will be close to three thousand years old, a year _is_ a small time jump.

I want to address something I'm rather sure will pop up in the reviews otherwise. I have not read anywhere an exact number of the population of Imladris, or any other city for that matter, so I had to come up with it on my own. I had to take into account that the Middle Earthern definition of a large city, isn't the same as ours. Still, some of you may say that five thousand is rather many, when we think about how we get told that the elves of Middle Earth are leaving. I want to remind you all, that this takes place in the first half of the first millennia of the Third Age. The War of the Ring took place in 3018/3019 (as far as I know, you're welcome to correct me). Things are different. That is the same reason why I have chosen five elflings, which is incredibly many if it was closer to the War of the Ring. The decline of elves in Middle Earth has started, indeed, but it is far from being as severe in the time that this chapter takes place, as when the War of the Ring takes place.

I want to hear what you guys think about the quotes at the start. Are they annoying? Do you even read them? Do you think they fit the chapters? Feedback, please, in form of either review or PM ;).

PureTempest


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